Cosmic Love
by Rorry Lamb
Summary: Her thoughts were stars that could not be fathomed into constellations. He loved her a little more for that. When she kisses him, storms rise beneath his skin for he is the ocean ans she, his moon.
1. Chapter 1

Blood and ruin. That was what filled the halls of Hogwarts. Blood and ruin and death,so much death. Luna stood in the Astronomy tower, her silvery blonde hair matted with blood and sweat, her dreamy silvery eyes were filled with unshed tears and anger. She hated waiting for the Death Eaters. Hated it.

She had helped Harry find Rowena's diadem, and then she had been instructed by her raven haired friend to go with Lupin and Tonks to the tower. Luna looked at her werewolf professor.

"It's going to be alright." She smiled despite the feeling of foreboding.

Remus tried to smile. He opened his mouth, preparing to speak but bright lights stopped him. Luna gasped quietly as she watched the protective barrier falL. Luna felt like screaming as she watched the burning tendrils that had once been the barrier float to the ground.

* * *

Luna felt like her body was on fire. Every breath brough with it a fiery pain and every spell she casted zapped a bit of strength. Death eater after Death eater attacked her and her friends.

Luna cried out as the wall beside her exploded, raining smoldering debris down on her person. She rolled to the left, landing painfully on her arm, in order to avoid a Killing Curse. The Death Eater laughed, a strange sound, like water sputtering out of a faucet. Luna whimpered silently while pulling herself up, her shoulder ached something terrible and her head was spinning a bit from the pain.

"Prepared to die, Blood traitor?" The Death Eater said, his voice clipped.

Luna wanted to laugh at his poor choice of words. _Blood traitor_, she though absently, _such a silly little tile to bestow upon a person_. Yet she remained silent. All around her people were dying. People she had grown up with, eaten with, people she had fought with. All dying, their eyes glazed over with nothingness and a bleak hopeless expression. luna stood stalk still amongst the wreckage.

She raised her wand. The dark polished wood seemed to shine in the flashing lights. Her other wand had been confiscated by Bellatrix when she had been taken to Malfoy manor. Oliviander had been so kind as to make her a new one.

"Reducto!"

A brilliant blue ball of light sped toward the Death Eater, who didn't have enough time to throw up a shield in order to protect himself. The spell hit him square in the chest, sending him soaring through the air. Luna ran, not wanting to stick around, waiting for the Death Eater to end her.

Luna raced down the Astronomy tower stairs. Her mismatched shoes a painfully bright blur. Down she ran, farther and farther into the heat of the battle. Luna was sure she looked rather deranged with her bloody, matted hair, swollen lip, and bruised eye... But then, not many others were better off.

Colors flew through the air. Killing curses and Shields, and brilliant flashes of red. It would have been beautiful if it hadn't been so horrific to bare witness to. Luna gasped for breath as she rounded a corner, straight into a Death Eater infested corridor. Luna tried to turn tail and run- knowing she would never be able to hold off so many Death Eaters- but it was to late for they had already spotted her.

Several Death Eaters shouted out at once. Luna's eyes widened in horror, she threw up a shield to defend herself against the green and purple curses that flew at her. Hot tears leaked down her dirty cheeks, and she hated herself for it. Hated herself for feeling so weak. He mother hadn't been weak... Her mother... She had been strong in Death... Luna could be strong to. She could fight back. If not for her friends and the freedom of her world then for her mother.

Luna straightened though her wand hand trembled terribly. sweat beaded upon her brow. "Protego!" Luna chirped, flicking her wand at the incoming killing curse, which then shot back at its caster.

Luna was barely able to deflect the spells coming at her. Block, block, fire, block, fire, fire, block. Soon she was covered in horrid bleeding cuts, the worst of which being the ugly looking cut that ran from her right hip and up her side to the top of her rib cage. She coughed, red blood spilling from her lips. Luna wanted to scream and sob and swear. She didn't want to die... Not yet... Not like this. Not without saying goodbye to the Thresals and the gnomes and her dad... Her dad.

Her distraction allowed a rather nasty Death Eater to cast a rather nasty spell that sent her flying through the air and into a pillar. Luna rolled onto her knees, blood dripping from her lip and the ground spinning beneath her feet. God it hurt.

_Use the spell_, a voice in her head whispered softly. Luna realized with a shock that it was her mother's voice. Luna struggled to stand, using nothing but pure force of will alone to move her badly shaking legs. The spell was the reason her mother was dead, an experiment gone wrong, a misplaced flick of the wrist that had ended up costing her life.

"Coming back for more? Lovegood, they never learn when they've been beaten." A Death Eater sneered.

Luna raised her arm, willing the shaking to stop. The Death Eaters laughed, and with one last look at the bloody scene behind her Luna very softly whispered the spell.

Three things happened at once. The first being the powerful surge that had shot from the tip of her wand, the second was the unbelievably vibrant golden light that seemed to envelope the entire corridor, and finally, as that golden glow embraced her, there was a warmth, like a mother's embrace... Like a warm fire and a butter-bear on a cold winter morning.

Luna closed her eyes tightly as her body collapsed on itself, no longer able to keep her awake let alone upright. The darkness was such a welcomed relief against the pain that she almost didn't notice that she wasn't laying on rubble and debris in a ruined corridor, but instead soft moss and summer grass. Of course one hardly ever recognizes such changes when one is on the brink of unconsciousness. Luna tried to open her eyes, barely able to crack them open and gaze out with blurry vision from beneath her lashes as a tall shadow appeared next to her. Finally giving into the exhaustion she had put her body through, Luna closed her eyes and slipped into a deep dark abyss.

* * *

Haldir had sensed the disturbance in the air as soon as it had happened. He looked up, his hands hovering over his weaponry. Every instinct screamed danger, but something deep inside told the elven warrior that he needed to find the source of the disturbance, and quickly.

Haldir stood slowly, gazing longingly at the cool stream he had been sitting by before moving into the forest. Lothlórien was truly a beautiful place, still untouched by the evil taint of Sauron. As he moved deeper into the forest, following his feet that moved on their own accord, he thought of Galadriel. Had she sensed it as well? Did she know he was going to search for the cause? Was it dangerous? Haldir shook his head violently, there was no need for such thinking.

Haldir stopped suddenly, his heightened hearing picking up on the sound of labored breathing. Turning to his left, Haldir noticed the figure laying in a heap upon the ground. He quickly rushed to the person's side. Blood was beginning to pool around the person's body and Haldir found himself mildly shocked to see that it was a woman and not a man laying in the bloody pool. Haldir briefly stared at her, even with the blood and dirt marring her features she was oddly beautiful... For a mortal.

Bring her to the healers, Ithilwen has returned.

Upon hearing the voice of his Queen within his head, ans with bo small amount of confusion- for he knew no one by that name- Haldir carefully scooped the injured woman into his arms and made his way- as quickly as possible- back to the home tree.


	2. Chapter 2

The healers of Lorien had been quite shocked when the March warden of Lorien cam rushing into the healing ward, a bloody woman hanging limply in his arms, with Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn following behind.

"Lay her there." One of the healers, a woman with thick ebon hair and blue eyes, said.

Haldir carefully placed the young girl on the bed. Her head rolled to the side, the white pillows and blanket quickly becoming scarlet with blood. Haldir turned a questioning look to the healer. The elven women shook her head, looking up at her Lord and Lady.

Lady Galadriel gently pressed her hand against the girl's forehead, whispering softly in the girl's ears. Haldir's eyes grew wide as the healer began to removed the injured woman's shirt, red tinted his cheeks as he turned and made his way to the door. Lord Celeborn was right beside him.

Galadriel watched them, her blue eyes twinkling with bemusement. A bloody cough drew her attention back to the injured child, for that's what she was, a child... One Galadriel had never expected- but had hoped beyond belief- to see again. Her daughter, her Ithilwen. It had been many moons since she had last seen her daughter, the young elfling whom held the eternal light of the stars in her eyes.

"My Lady... This could not be Ithilwen... Could it?" The healer questioned.

Galadriel smiled, Vanya had been a healer in Lothlorien for as long as she could remember. Vanya remembered every elven being to be brought into the healing ward. It came as no surprise to Galadriel that she had remembered her daughter.

"Ithilwen has returned to us, yes... But in a time of great distress, I'm afraid." Galadriel replied.

It brought great joy to have her daughter back and even greater worry that she had returned for a great darkness was spreading through the land. A feeling of foreboding grew in the Lady of Light's heart. Sauron had yet to make himself an immediate threat to Lothlorien, but now his eye would be turned on her daughter. The first female Istari of Elven blood. A threat to him and his dark wats but also his salvation should darkness taint her heart.

Vanya bit into her lip- something she rarely did- as she began to heal Ithilwen's bleeding wounds. Galadriel helped to the best of her abilities, keeping her daughter alive and stable as Vanya worked.

* * *

Luna could hear people talking, worried voices that sounded so familiar that it caused a deep ache for her mother and father in her chest. Blue eyes flickered open only to squeeze shut against the harsh light.

The voices grew louder, more urgent as gentle hands pressed against her shoulders and face. Luna could tell that the ones that gently stroked her cheeks belonged to a woman and the one that rested on her uninjured shoulder belonged to a man.

"Ithilwen..."

Luna wanted to frown. The name, she was sure it was a name, seemed familiar but she couldn't seem to figure out where it had come from and who it was directed at. Surely not herself, her name was Luna Lovegood. Sleep consumed her before she could think on it further.

When she woke up again Luna was slightly less disoriented. The lights didn't hurt her eyes as much when she opened them and it didn't hurt to breath as much as it had before. Looking around Luna noticed that she wasn't in the hospital wing at Hogwarts nor was she at St. Mungo's.

Luna was out of the bed and on her feet in an instant. Her wand, her wand, oh god where was her wand? Luna's eyes darted around the room, quickly landing on the polished wooden stick that was her wand. Luna made a lunge for it, rolling over the bed, and gracefully landing in her feet. Wand in hand Luna stumbled toward the door.

"You should not be out of bed!"

Luna turned, wand extended, to stare at the woman who had addressed her. The woman was beautiful, her ebon hair was pulled back in several braids, her large eyes glittered with worry and age, and her fair skin seemed to glow. Luna swallowed hard.

"Where am I? Who are you? But more importantly, where am I?" Luna questioned softly, never one to raise her voice.

"You are in Lothlorien, My Lady. Please return to bed, you are still healing." Vanya spoke soothingly, and approached Luna as one would approach a cornered animal. Slowly and hands held up ever so slightly.

Luna blinked, one hand flying up to press against her forehead. Vanya stepped forward, closing the large gap between herself and her Lady. Vanya gently coaxed the wand from the young Istari's shaking hand.

"Ithilwen... You must return to bed, you are safe here within these walls." Yavana whispered.

"Luna... My name is Luna Lovegood, I'm very sorry but I do not know of this Ithilwen." Luna mumbled while slowly sitting on the bed she had woken in.

Vanya's frown deepened, but she couldn't say anything because it was not her place to reveal to the young Istari who she truly was. What her birth right was. That right went to her Naneth and her Ada but not to the woman who had helped to bring her into the world.

Vanya looked at Ithilwen, a small smile tugging at her lips upon noticing that the elfling had once again fallen asleep.

* * *

Galadriel stood over Ithilwen's sleeping form. Her golden hair dangled around her like a heavy golden cloak. Vanya stood beside her, lips pursed together in a thin disapproving line.

"My Lady... Are you sure this is the right course of action. You may not like what you find..." Vanya trailed off.

Galadriel smiled at her. "I am sure." She stated.

Vanya gently inclined her head, then she turned and left the room, giving Galadriel the privacy Vanya knew she needed. Once Vanya was gone Galadriel carefully sat on the bed beside her daughter. It had hurt, leaving her in that world, but it had been for the best and both Galadriel and Celeborn knew that.

Galadrien gently placed her hand against Ithilwen's pale cheek, she could feel the power of the Adar stirring beneath the surface of her flesh. Galadriel smiled down at her daughter, then slowly delved into her daughter's conscious.

Galadriel found many things in her daughter's memories. She saw the death of the woman whom Galadriel had entrusted with the task of raising her daughter, she watched as the woman's husband slowly lost some of his sanity. Galadriel watched as her daughter grew in both body and mind, watched as she was shunned for what the people of the world she grew up in saw as being eccentric. Galadriel watched as her daughter befriended the boy who loved, watched her fight beside him.

Galadriel frowned as a particularly dark memory came into view. A war, bodies lying upon the ground, gazing up through glassy eyes. the images flew by almost to fast for Galadriel to grab hold of. What images the Lady of Light was able to grasp was filled with pain and blood and a castle in ruins. There was a searing pain in her side and in her head.

Galadriel ripped herself away from her daughter's memories. Looking down at her side. She found nothing. No pain and no blood to suggest that she had ever felt the pain in the first place. Galadriel looked at her daughter, tears of realization burning her eyes. Galadriel slowly stroked a silvery blonde lock of hair out of Ithilwen's face.

Galadriel watched as Ithilwen's eyebrows drew together, her eyes flickering open to look at Galadriel, who smiled softly though her unshed tears blurred her vision slightly.

"... Naneth..." Luna mumbled sleepily, not even realizing she had spoken the elvish language.

Galadriel smiled, "Lellig." she spoke softly and then placed a motherly kiss upon her daughter's forehead.

* * *

Naneth is elvish for Mother.

Lellig is elvish for My Daughter.


	3. Chapter 3

Luna listened to Vanya talk as the two made their way to the bath houses. It was a dream... It had to be, there was no way on earth that her mother would be alive. There was no way Luna could be a princess. No way... Unless being princess of mismatched socks qualified her.

"Now the bath houses are separated. Men are not allowed into the women's bath house and vice versa. Any questions?" Vanya asked.

Luna shook her head slowly, it was just like her time period. She and Vanya slipped into the bath house. It was a large room with tiled pools filled with steaming water fed by- what Luna assumed to be- a hot spring. Luna was still terribly sore and with the help of Vanya was slowly able yo strip herself of the simple white nightgown like dress she had been given.

Luna was unbelievably thankful that the bath house was vacant. She wasn't sure if she was ready to deal with anymore elves and curious eyes staring at her like a scientist would stare at a new species. Luna had been informed- by Vanya- that word of her curious arrival in the forest had spread throughout Lothlorien.

"Y-You don't have to stay..." Luna stuttered as Vanya took a seat on one of the marble benches that lined the wall.

"You're still injured. Your wound has stopped bleeding but if it opens up again I need to be able to treat you quickly... Besides you stumbled three times on your way here, it would be a travesty if you were to faint and drown before meeting with your Ada and Naneth." Vanya stated kindly.

Luna let out a resigned sigh, then carefully slid into the steaming water. A delighted moan slid from Luna's lips as the warm water enveloped her body. She carefully used her nails to scrub away dirt and sweat that had accumulated over the past few days. Yes Vanya had cleansed her as much as possible but Vanya hadn't been able to get all of the dirt and grime.

Luna dipped under the water and when she came back up her hair had become considerably lighter then it had been before. Vanya watched Ithilwen through amused eyes. Vanya could see why humans might consider her odd, she hummed softly, gnawed on her bottom lip when she was troubled, and more then once she had mentioned Nargles- mischievous thieves, Bowtruckles- an insect eating, tree dwelling wooden creature that is hard to spot, and a wrackspurt. Ithilwen had even claimed to have seen a Bowtuckle on their way to the bath house.

To humans she may appear eccentric, yes, but to the elves... To the elves she was merely an elfling princess who saw things others overlooked. Vanya admired her for that.

"Vanya? Do you have any children?"

Vanya looked over at Ithilwen. Her hair hung around her body and floated in the water in a cascade of silvery blonde. Vanya smiled.

"Yes, a son. Nendir." Vanya replied.

"Nendir... I would very much like to meet him." Luna chirped.

"One day, perhaps." Vanya said.

Luna smiled, it was a radiant smile that made her already dreamy eyes glitter. Once Ithilwen was out of the pools Vanya quickly helped her dry herself off and get dressed. The dress Lady Galadriel had provided was one of simple blue silk.

Vanya quickly ushered Luna to a bench and began to brush her hair, with much resistance from Ithilwen. Vanya merely told her that until she had complete use of her injured arm then she should allow Vanya to help her... Especially today since she would be meeting her parents.

Luna sat with her arms crossed as Vanya carefully pulled, wound, braided, and pinned back her hair before placing a circlet of silver on her hair. Vanya smiled at her.

"Beautiful. Now come along, your Naneth and Ada are waiting."

Luna nodded, stood, smoothed out her dress, and then followed her from the room.

* * *

Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel were growing impatient, it wasn't that they couldn't wait, it was that they were tired of waiting. The night previous Galadriel had briefly spoken to her daughter. A series of hushed words and promises of explanation in the morning.

Galadriel turned to look at her husband. He seemed worried, Galadriel placed her hand over his in comfort. The doors to the room slid open to reveal Ithilwen. Galadriel smiled alongside Celeborn, the two watched as their daughter carefully gathered her skirts- revealing two bright, mismatched shoes- and stepped into the room. Galadriel stood.

"Come, Ithilwen. There is much we need to discuss."

* * *

An hour later Luna- or Ithilwen, as both her mother and father insisted on calling her as well as every other elf she had met- found herself being escorted around by a man... Elf... Man elf, named Haldir. Luna liked Haldir for the most part... He called her Princess or Princess Ithilwen and Luna wasn't to sure she liked that.

It wasn't like she wasn't Ithilwen or that she minded being a princess, but she was Luna Lovegood, too. Haldir insisted on showing her around, and Luna let him.

"Wrackspurts." Luna mumbled after a moment

Haldir looked at her, his eyebrows furrowing curiously. "Wrack... Spurts?" He implored questioningly.

"Yes," Luna nodded, "Wrackspurts. Your heads full of them. But don't worry, they are harmless."

Haldir's lip quirked upward. "And you know this how, Princess?"

With a delighted smile Luna waved her wand, producing her glasses- a rather vibrant blue and pink set- and a mirror. "I know, because, I can see them due to having seen them before. Elves have better eyesight, but one does need to see a wrackspurt once before in order to keep seeing it." Luna carefully slid the colorful glasses onto Haldir's face.

With a giggle Luna held up the mirror. Haldir's eyes grew wide on his face as the tiny balls of light appeared floating around his head. He carefully swiped at them, and Luna chuckled.

"You should be thankful. My friend Harry Potter was injured once... Badly. He had this cloak that made him invisible. If it hadn't been for the wrackspurts then I might have never found him." Luna said.

"This Harry Potter... What happened to him?" Haldir implored as the two walked down the stair case that wound around the home tree.

Luna frowned. "I am... Not sure." Luna mumbled.

Haldir was about to reply but before he could three young elflings darted between them. Luna laughed, gave Haldir and apologetic smile, gathered her skirts and chased after them, almost instantly becoming part of the game the three elflings were playing.


	4. Chapter 4

Luna watched as Haldir paced back and forth across the ground. Over the past week the two had become good friends. Luna enjoyed his company- partially because he listened to her blabber on about wrackspurts and house elves and why she wasn't wearing shoes... Why she hadn't been wearing shoes for the past week.

Luna lazily twirled her wand between her thumb and forefinger, red sparks flying from the tip of the polished wood. "Why are you so nervous, mellon nin?" Luna implored with a gentle smile.

"Lord Elrond and Mithrandir are arriving within the hour..." Haldir mumbled.

"Lord Elrond? Mithrandir? Is there a particular reason as to why they are coming?" Luna implored.

"Annatar is coming, Ithilwen."

"Mellon nin, who is Sauron?"

Haldir became very still. He looked at Ithilwen, eyes gaurded and posture tense. Many of the elves of Lorien were well aware of Ithilwen's involvement in the world she had previously lived in.

"It is not my place to tell." Haldir mumbled.

"So he's evil then...," Luna stated, tapping her chin, "He is a Dark Lord, no? Like Voldemort but with more power? And he wishes to take over our world?"

"Sometimes you are to observant." Haldir stated, amazed with the young Elleth's mental capability.

"One can never be to observant." Luna corrected with a chuckle.

Haldir smiled, taking a seat across from Luna on the ground. Haldir pulled out his sword and ran his thumb carefully across it. A thin line of blood appeared on the pale pad of flesh. Luna sighed as she pointed her wand at him. "Episky... You must be more careful." Luna stated before turning to her book.

"I should be patrolling." Haldir stated.

"But you aren't..." Luna said.

"But I should be."

"Then why aren't you?"

"I am under strict orders to watch you."

Luna chuckled softly and flipped the page of her book, completely aware of Haldir's almost silent exasperated sigh. She smiled, he reminded her of Charlie Weasley... Just a little bit.

* * *

Luna watched as two men made their way up the home tree. One was tall, his hair just as dark as his eyes, his ear were pointed and his features beautiful. The other was not short, but he was shorter then the other man, his hair was grey and his eyes were like the sky during a storm, he wore a grey cloak, he carried a long wooden staff in his right hand and a pointy grey hat in the other.

"Lord Eldrond, is the Lord of Rivendell. He married your thêl einior just this past year." Vanya said.

The two elleths were sitting in Luna's bed chambers. Gazing out the window at the approaching party. Luna looked over her shoulder, her silvery eyes curious.

"I have a sister?" She was shocked.

Vanya laughed, she was even more beautiful then usual when she laughed, and placed a dark green dress across the bed. Luna could chose her clothes herself, and she'd said as much, but Vanya insisted that on occasion she help the young princess dress.

"Oh yes. The Lady Celebrain. Sweet girl, would have been so happy to know you have returned." Vanya stated.

Luna frowned a bit. There was something that Vanya wasn't telling her, but not being one to pry, Luna turned away and nodded. Her attention returning to the two men who were being greeted and led away by Haldir.

"And the other? Mithrandir?" Luna asked.

"Mithrandir is a member of the White Council. A group of Istari led by Saruman the white. Mithrandir is a kind man." Vanya replied.

Luna stood, her hands extended over her head, fingers curling and back arching, silvery blonde locks falling down her back in thick torrents. She walked over to Vanya, slowly untying her dressing robe. She wasn't quite sure why her mother insisted she change.

Vanya slowly helped Ithilwen into the dark velvet dress. The darkness of the green made the elfling's fair complexion become even fairer. She seemed to radiate a beautiful silver glow. Vanya carefully sat her down and began to run a jeweled comb through Ithilwen's long curls.

"You look beautiful." Vanya stated with a smile.

Luna blushed a pretty shade of rose pink. "Thank you." She said softly before she stood. Vanya nodded and placed a pretty emerald ringlet upon her head. The small emeralds embedded in the silvery glittered subtly in the light of the lanterns hanging in Luna's room.

"Why are Lord Elrond and Mithrandir here?" Luna asked.

"Galadriel has summoned Lord Elrond and Lord Círdan as well as Mithrandir to a council." Vanya replied softly.

Luna frowned. If her mother had called a council meeting then that meant she saw something unpleasant. Something coming with the growing darkness. She bit her bottom lip, gnawing on the pink flesh.

* * *

Luna was there when the meeting ended. She watched as the three men slipped from the coucil meeting room- she wasn't quite sure what it was calles but that worked for her- and tensed slightly as the greying man hesitated Before walking off.

Luna's hand hesitated over the door, her other hand resting on the silver knob. Should she knock? Was it even appropriate seeing as to how they had just gotten out of a meeting... They might be tired. Luna jumped as the door swung open.

"Come in, Ithilwen." Celeborn commanded kindly. His ageless face tired and a bit worn.

Luna slowly walked into the room. she wrung her hands, an unlady like thing to do but she wasn't to bothered with it at the moment. She closed the door behind her, and walked further into the room.

"Something is troubling you." Galadriel said, no question in her tone.

"Yes... I was thinking... When we... When I was fighting in that corridor," Luna's eyes never left her mother as she spoke, "When I performed that spell. That spell brought me here, which also means it brought a few people I was fighting against as well. I know you don't want to involve me in whatever is happening... If you did you would have told me about Sauron. But, if those witches or wizards are here then they'll side with Sauron." Luna stated.

"We did not wish to ruin your peace of mind." Celeborn replied before Galadriel could.

"I appreciate that. I do, but, if there are other witches or wizards from my world," she noticed her parents flinch a bit at that, "Then I need to know. These people... They aren't even people anymore. They have lost all of their compassion. Their humanity. These people have tortured and slaughtered children. If they have come to these lands then they will side with Sauron."

"And if they have?" Celeborn asked.

Galadriel remained quiet. Her hands clasped in her lap. Luna sighed, worried filled her being. A horrible twisting and pulling of her nerves and a sickening tightening of her heart.

"If they have then they will start bringing powerful beings to their side. They will start with werewolves and influential mortals, that can give them the things they need. Then once they have enough power behind them, they will turn their attention to the White Council and Elves of noble blood. I know they are going to be interested in Saruman and Mithrandir, as for Radagast the brown or the two blue wizards I cannot be sure," Luna shifted, "Radagast will be seen as eccentric and the blue wizards may be beyond their influence."

"What would you have up do?"

"Train, I should think... In time they will turn their attention to Lothlorien. And when that happens we will have a very large problem."

* * *

"I was wondering when we would meet, Lady Ithilwen." Gandalf greeted just as a very worried looking elleth left the room he had occupied just hours before.

"I seem to be in quite a frightful disposition. You know my name but I do not have the pleasure if knowing your own." Luna replied softly.

Galdalf smiled, she was a sweet girl, Galdalf could tell by the way she carried herself. Her posture was neither aggressive nor closed, it was opened and although ready for an attack of some sort something told him she would not wish to harm another.

"Galdalf the Grey some call me." Galdalf said.

"A pleasure Mr. Gandalf the Grey." Luna curtsied slightly.

Gandalf chuckled. "It is my pleasure to meet you to be sure. I have heard much of you. Your mother is very proud of you, as is your father." Gandalf stood as he spoke.

Ithilwen smiled a little brighter and rocked back on her heels a bit. "I enjoy your company." Luna stated with a nod.

"Very forward are we?" It wasn't a condescending question.

"There is no point in lying. If I did not enjoy your company I would not wish to be in it. But if I were to tell you that, then I would hurt your feelings. If I were to say nothing at all and continue to place myself in your company then I myself would be miserable. Either way, lying would have ended up with one of us being absolutely miserable." Luna stated.

"I guess that is true." Gandalf chuckled.

"Would you mind if I sat?" Luna motioned to the empty portion of bench beside Mithrandir.

Gandalf smiled, nodded, and slid over allowing Ithilwen to take a seat. Luna smiled thankfully as she sat down, smoothing out her skirt as she did so. Luna casually flicked her wand, whispering the summoning spell under her breath, and then tucked her wand behind her ear for safe keeping much to Gandalf's amusement.


	5. Chapter 5

Dinner had been lovely... Well it had been close to lovely, Luna had wished there had been pudding. Chocolate pudding to be exact, but there hadn't been. Mithrandir was kind, he reminded her- in his own way- of Hermione. Luna figured it was his wisdom that reminded her so much of the bushy haired witch.

Luna smiled sadly as she donned her night clothes. A soft silk tunic and breeches a soft blue in color. Luna expertly braided back her hair, rolling her eyes as some of the silver strands fell in her face. She pulled her dressing robe tighter around her body as she stepped through the darkening room. It was oddly cool in the room, the floor beneath her feet was chilled and made her soft flesh tingle.

Luna quickly slipped into bed, her dressing robe draped across the chair beside her bed. Luna pulled the covers up around her shoulders, tucking her chin down, and closed her eyes. Sleep did not come easily, the blankets were to soft, the air smelt of something sweet instead of the tangy lemon smell that she was so used to, the air was to quiet. Luna missed the sound of her father's... Xeno's... Erratic movements and almost quiet swears when he knocked something over... But eventually sleep came and Luna welcomed it like an old fiend.

* * *

Luna dreamt of a forest... Beautiful and green with trees that seemed to touch the sky and an air of tranquility. Looking down Luna frowned. She wore a dress of starlight, her hair fell around her shoulders, brushing her hips, and her feet were bare.

Luna stepped off of stone path at her feet, leaves crunching silently beneath her feet. Luna carefully side stepped branches and leapt gracefully over logs. Deeper and deeper she went, her feet guiding her through the twisting trees and foliage. Luna stopped, her eyes landing on pale hair and a masculine figure.

Luna opened her mouth but the person was gone. Luna began to run, her chest tightening with excitement and a small amount of fear. The forest was getting darker, the trees older, the air filled with a sort of musty richness. Then she saw the man again and she slowed.

Luna stepped behind a tree, her pale hands splayed across rough moss covered bark. She swallowed thickly and gazed at the man before her. He was an elf- obviously- and even though she couldn't see his face, Luna was sure he was the most beautiful man she had ever laid eyes upon. He carried himself with a sort of royal grace and dignity. Luna's chest felt tight, like her heart was being tugged by invisible strings that threatened to rip her heart out of her chest... But not in a bad way.

Suddenly the elf turned, Luna sucked in a breath- partially because she hadn't had enough time to hide behind the tree, and partially because the elf before her was without a doubt stunning. There was a brief moment when dreamy silvery. eyes met the fiery blue eyes of the elf standing before her. She tensed, her hand twitching, yearning to feel her wand between her fingers, and then the elf smiled. He had a nice smile that made the harsh beauty of his face soften.

The elf held out his hand in her direction. "Tolo ar nin." The man's voice was a deep baritone. His smile wavered slightly when she hesitated, concern clouding his eyes.

Luna swallowed down her fear, a strange sense of warmth filling her chest as he reached out. The elf stepped closer, their fingers brushed. The warmth, the safety seemed to vanish from the air. Luna shivered violently as fog began to creep around them. The man said something Luna couldn't quite make out, his fingers wrapped around her wrist giving off a warmth that felt wrong in such a violently cold setting, and then he began to crumble away like dry sand through a strainer. A scream, terrified and pained ripped through the air.

* * *

Luna woke with a choked gasp if fear. Screams pierced the air but they weren't her own. The door to her chambers burst open and Vanya followed by Haldir came rushing in.

"What... What is happening?!" Luna questioned, flinging the covers away and grabbing her wand from the stand beside the bed.

"Someone is attacking Lothlorien," Vanya gasped, "Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn have sent us to protect you."

Luna looked at Haldir. "These attackers," Luna asked, "You saw them?"

"Yes. They wore black robes and silver masks... They carried wooden sticks..."

Luna ran. Death eaters... Death eaters... Her mind seemed to repeatedly scream those dreaded words un her ear. In all honesty Luna didn't want to fight anyone, she has just gotten out of one war, she didn't want to fight another one... But even though her heart clenched in dread and her gut twisted sickeningly Lyna kept running because she knew that if she did not then everyone in the Elven city would be dead by dawn.

Behind her the loud desperate pleads for her to return to her chambers faded and there was only the painful thrum of blood in her ears and the feel of her wad in her clenching grip. A terrible feeling built in the pit of her stomach. How many people had died already? How many would she not be able to save? Luna blinked back her tears as she flew down the stairs of the home tree.

Green and red lights flashed through the air as well as horrified screams. Luna swallowed heavily around the lump forming in her throat. Lune shot down the winding stairs, her long braid whipping against her back with several heavy thumps.

Luna found it horrific... How so many lives could be changed by a few words and a flash of green light. Luna yelped as a vibrant flash of green shot past her. Luna dropped, rolled to the left, and fired a well aimed reducto.

"Noro!" Luna exclaimed as she practically shoved a little girl in the opposite direction of he Death Eaters.

The elfling didn't need to be told twice, and with a cry of fear she ran. red and green decorated the air. Luna noticed a large pointy grey hat and swore a very colorful string of russian words. Then she was running and firing spells and trying to reach Mithrandir before it was to late.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"Expelliarmus!"

Red and green collided. Luna ground her teeth together, her eyes and her attention never leaving the Death Eater. Luna was completely unaware of the elves watching them... They must have been a sight to behold. A princess in her night clothes fighting against a man in robes, red and green sparks flying through the air. Sweat beaded Luna's brow as she took a step forward, willing her spell to push the other back.

Glancing behind her to find that no one was standing near her, Luna rolled, barely missing getting hit by the killing curse, once she was safely on her feet Luna shot another spell at the Death Eater. Luna looked away from the immobilized Death Eater


	6. Chapter 6

Luna stared at the unconscious Death Eater laying haphazardly on the floor of the cell he had been thrown into. Luna looked at the Death Eater's wand. She should snap it really, break it in two and throw the pieces to the wind... But that would be a cruel fate, although, no cruller then the fates they had cast upon those they deemed unworthy. A pained groan made Luna look up at the Death Eater.

"I would not move so suddenly," Luna said with a kindness the man truly didn't deserve, "You took a nasty hit to the head."

The man glared at her. Luna found herself staring at his features. The man was unfamiliar, his hair was a mix between black and yellow, his eyes were bloodshot, and his skin had a papery appearance to it.

"You're the Lovegood bitch," The Death Eater spat, Haldir made a threatening move behind her but Luna ignored him as the Death Eater spoke again, "He's looking for you. The Dark Lord is gaining more followers as we speak. His power is growing and once he has you, he will be unstoppable."

Luna knelt so that she was eye level with the man. Her head tilted to the side in curiosity. "What do you mean, Mr. Sun?" Luna implored softly.

"Selwyn, you annoying little twit," The man spat, "And I don't answer to you."

Luna held up his wand, twirling it lazily between her fingers. Selwyn lunged forward only to be ripped back by the magical chains he had been bound to the wall with. "That dies not belong to you, you dirty blood treacherous whore!" Selwyn roared. An arrow went through his shoulder a moment later.

"You are lucky, filth, that Lady Ithilwen has ordered me not to kill you... Had she not been blessed with a gentle heart, I would not have made your death merciful." Haldir growled.

The Death Eater laughed. "By all means, kill me," Selwyn chuckled, "I'm already dead... I did not come here on some pointless death march, however fun those may be, I am here to tell that you don't stand a chance. The Death Eaters you brought have gathered."

"Any that I know?" Luna asked.

Selwyn looked at her with amused smugness. His thin, colorless lips twisting just so that it gave him an air of arrogance. He didn't look good, healthy... His skin was paling and his eyes were becoming cloudy and filmy, spittle dripped from his chin and down his neck.

"The Carrow twins... Antonin Dolohov... Fenrir Greyback... And Mulciber," Selwyn's vouce was fading away, yet he laughed darkly and met Luna's eyes, "You better watch your back, you stupid little bitch, because they're coming for you."

Selwyn broke off with a violent wet cough. Blood sprayed across the ground and dribbled from his mouth. Luna felt her stomach churn at the sight of the blood, it appeared black in the torchlight. Luna dropped to her knees, fear contorting her pretty features. Haldir gently pulled her to her feet and away from the heavy steel bars.

"There is nothing you can do." The March Warden whispered.

Luna allowed herself to be led from the room, her stomach twisting and churning like a sea during a storm. Selwyn's laugh followed them through the darkness of the all but empty prison, only stopping when the heavy wooden door slammed shut behind them.

* * *

"All are extremely dangerous," Luna stated, her eyes locking on the Death Eater's wand in her hand, "Alect and Amycus Carrow, Antonin Dolohov, and Fenrir Greyback are possibly the worst, however."

"How so? Are not all of these 'Death Eaters' dangerous?" Elrond implored, although his voice was chilled, there was a certain fondness to it whenever he spoke to Luna... She suspected- and Mithrandir agreed- that it was because of her relation to his wife.

"All knives are dangerous, others are just sharper and deadlier." Luna replied.

"What makes these particular beings more dangerous?" Gandalf asked, worry creeping into his twinkling eyes.

"The Carrow twins, they are skilled in the dark arts, although not very intelligent... Alecto, she enjoys torturing people and she doesn't need a reason to do so, and Amycus... Well, he's not much better." Luna uttered softly, her mind trailing to memories she didn't want to remember.

"You have had dealings with them?"

"When Dumbledore, the headmaster at my old school, died the Carrow twins took over... Alecto was our muggle studies professor as well as the head of discipline. Amycus was the Dark Arts professor. Several students were torchered by the two... Myself included."

The room tensed, but it was Elrond who looked angrier then the others and Luna found herself wondering why. She swallowed uncomfortably and continued.

"Antonin Dolohov has a knack for dueling. He is merciless, without pity or remorse... He was one of Voldemort's oldest Death Eaters... They went to Hogwarts together, you see. He is highly skilled at nonverbal magic. He tends to favor a dark spell that shoots purple fire at a person. His knowledge in the Dark Arts makes him dangerous."

Luna ran her hand through the thick mess that was her hair. She was tempted to cut it all off... But decided against it.

"But it is Fenrir I would be most concerned about." She sighed.

"And why is that." Celeborn questioned.

"He is a werewolf, perhaps the most savage alive... He regards it as his mission to bite and contaminate as many people as possible; he wanted to create enough werewolves to overrun the wizards, I cannot be sure that is the case now, however," Luna took a deep breath, "He personalizes in children. Bit them young, he says, raise them away from their parents... Raise them to hate regular wizards."

"He attacks children?" Haldir repeated, a look of disgust twisting his features.

"Yes, he does not care whether they are children or no... But children are preferable... Less likely to put up a fight and easier to tain. Quite savage, really."

"What of this, Muliber?" Elrond implored.

There was a pregnant pause and then Luna spoke, "I have only seen him once before... A brief glance when I was fighting in the DoM... My apologies, Department of Mysteries. All I know is that he is skilled with the Imperious Curse."

Galadriel stood. She looked older then she usually appeared to be... Her eyes were shaded by worry, and her lips were tilted downward in a frown. She still appeared to be very beautiful.

"Haldir escort Ithilwen to her chambers."

Luna sighed tiredly and stood, softly bidding everyone good evening before slipping from the room. She and Haldir walked in silence to her bed chambers where Haldir left her with kind words and a formal bow. Luna sighed tiredly as she entered her room, her bed looked quite appealing. Luna didn't bother to removed her shoes as she fell face first onto the bed. Luna barely managed to put her wand- as well as Selwyn's- on the table beside her bed before sleep took her.


	7. Chapter 7

Luna dreamt of him again, the golden haired elf with the chilling blue eyes. It was strange, but Luna was used to strange things happening to her. She had dreamt of a world consumed by darkness, the only light coming from the horizon. She had run towards it, desperate for the warmth of that light. She had reached it, of course, but where she had expected a sun to be there was a man. Tall and proud and radiating warmth. She had hesitated, arms crossed, hands rubbing at her arms for warmth. Then the elf was there, holding her, warming her with his light, kissing her cheek, and whispering sweet words of endearment in her ears. She had looked up, face tilting back so she could see his face... It was a beautiful face. He leaned down, she shifted onto her toes, her eyes flickered, there was a soft brush of his lips on hers and then... She woke up.

Breathing deeply, Luna stood and made her way to her armoire. She practically ripped a tunic and a pair of breeches out of her armoire. She stripped out of her nightgown, pulled on the doe skin breeches- nearly falling over in the process- and then tugged e tunic on over her hair. Then she sat down in front of her vanity and gazed into the mirror, her hands itched for a paint brush or any other drawing equipment she could get her hands on. Luna smiled wistfully at the memory of Hermione's last christmas present to Luna, it had been a set of Oil Pastels, each was its own unique color and Luna had loved them all equally. She had loved the stains it left on the tips of her fingers, loved the way the color stood out vibrantly against the parchment she had used, loved the way it had smelled. They had been one of the most beautiful things she had owned, sadly they were gone now. Luna glanced behind her at the bookcase. Could there possibly be an empty book? One she could use for her drawings? She almost laughed at herself.

"How silly of me," she whispered, "To be worrying over something so petty when there is a war brewing..."

Luna shook her head, grabbed her hair comb, and began to try and detangle her wild bed hair. Eventually she gave up, there were still strands that stuck up awkwardly on her head and snarled knots she couldn't get out but she didn't care for her looks. Luna made her way to the door, bare footed, and dreamy eyed. The door to her bed chambers clicked shut behind her and Luna began skipping down the stairs.

Her mind reeled, perhaps she could transfigure some leaves into a book, and she could turn a regular quill into one that never ran out of ink. A smile bright as moonlight graced her features.

"Princess Ithilwen, what has happened to make you so happy?" Haldir implored, appearing beside her.

Lua didn't even jump, she merely looked up at the taller elf and smiled even brighter. "Nothing, mellon nin." She breathed before skipping off. Luna found herself in the forest, she quickly ran to a tree, gathered some leaves, and pulled her wand from behind her ear. Luna quickly arranged the leaves, then took a deep breath. She raised her wand, concentrating on the pile of leaved, she pointed the polished

stick and began to move her arm in a counter clockwise circle. Blue lights danced around the leaves, the pretty emerald objects began to stretch and thicken, binding themselves together and darkening into soft leather and textured parchment. Luna clapped excitedly and put her wand back behind her ear. The book was heavy and warm, the leather had little blue jewels embedded in it, and there was a silken red ribbon waiting to be used as a page marker.

"That is quite impressive."

Luna started slightly then smiled as she turned to see her brother-in-law standing before her, head tilted to the side, eyebrows drawn together, and lips pursed in such a way that it made him look more pained then interested.

"It is quite a simple transfiguration spell." Luna spoke softly as she stood, book tucked under her arm.

"Have you seen the library?" Elrond implored.

"Oh yes, it is lovely... But this is not a book one reads from." Luna smiled.

"Of course, forgive me."

Luna waved him away and stepped up beside him so that they were several feet apart. "Would you like to stay? I have no further need to be out here at the moment. Would you like to accompany me back?" Luna questioned kindly.

"There is something I would like to ask you..." Elrond stated while offering his arm. Luna shifted her book to the other arm and took the offered appendage.

"Ask away." Luna chirped.

Elrond's eyebrow raised questioningly but he just dismissed her odd way of speaking and started taking leisurely steps through the trees. "Last night, when you said you had been tortured... How is it that you have not fallen into despair?

"I am sure there is a reason for such violent questions." Luna breathed easily.

"My wife... She was captured and tortured. She has left these lands for she could no longer find happiness here."

Luna pursed her lips. "Every person is different. I know people who have withstood torture for little under an hour and I know those who have been driven to insanity under only a mere ten minutes of torment. Wizards of my old home lands use a spell to torture a person. It creates the illusion of pain, yet there is none. It is all in the mind."

"How is it that you are still sane then?" Elrond asked not unkindly.

Luna looked at him, her dreamy eyes held an eerie intensity to them. "I had something to fight for... Elrond, people die and people live. I cannot give you the answers you wish to hear. I did not know my sister, but... To be tortured is a horrid afair that I would not wish on even my greatest enemies."

Elrond was about to speak but they had reached the home tree. Luna slipped away from him and made her way up the stairs that curved around the home tree. She stepped onto a bridge that connected the home tree to another tree. She walked across the bridge and then she pulled herself up onto one of the trees thick branches. Luna sat with her back pressed against the trunk of the tree and her foot dangling out over the side. She summoned a quill, charmed it, and flipped the book to the first open page.

Luna began to drawn. a series of curves and straight lines, layers of ink to create shadowing. Luna hadn't realized she had drawn the elf from her dreams until his likeness was splayed across the page. It was almost frightening, the realistic intensity of his face on the page, his eyes stared at nothing and everything.

"Lady Ithilwen! Lady Ithilwen!"

Luna carefully shut her book and swing herself from her perch. The elven guard jumped slightly as she landed in a crouch. She stood, straightened her tunic, and smiled.

"Yes?" She chirped.

"Lady Galadriel, she demands your presence... There has been a disturbance."

Luna nodded, turned, and took off to find her mother. Luna wondered what could have possibly happened. Had the Death Eaters attacked a village? A kingdom? How many had died if that had happened? She was turning a corner when she nearly ran into her mother.

"Naneth has something happened?" She implored.

"Do you know anyone named Alastor Moody and Neville Longbottom?"

"Yes, yes I do." Luna said, her excitement and doubt clear.

Galadriel pursed her lips. "Then it would appear you shall be traveling to the Green Woods."

Luna's eyebrows drew together in confusion. Alastor was dead, he had died... His death had been announced in the Prophet, she had heard Harry speaking of him... There was no way... Luna felt a little bubble of hope swell in her breast. Maybe he hadn't died. Maybe he had been hit by a spell that had sent him to this world like her, but then how had Neville been sent to Middle Earth? Luna bit her lip as she and her mother made their way toward Luna's chambers to pack her needed essentials for the journey.

* * *

Ok so yes I know that Moody died- sadly- and I know that there's no coming back from death but I really want him to be in this fic- even if for a brief moment- because Luna can't do this alone. There's just no way she can fight the Death Eaters I've chosen and Sauron at the same time without being Mary Sue and I don't want that because it isn't realistic. So I'm bringing in the Big Guns- Moody- and lovable-shy-courageous-selfless Neville. I think that as a team they would kick Death Eater/Dark Lord ass.


	8. Chapter 8

Luna gnawed on her lip as she followed her mother and father to the stables. Luna shouldered the travel bag she had given an extension charm So that she could fit more then just one thing in the bag.

The stables were beautiful and the horses were even more so. Luna smiled and skipped after her parents, who had made their way to the back of the stables. Luna smiled and pushed a silvery blonde lock of hair behind her ear.

"Ithilwen," Celeborn said, motioning to the horse in the stall beside him, "This is Merin, he will take you to the Green Woods."

Luna looked at the horse. He was tall, 16.1 hands from his whither to the ground, his mane was just as black as the rest of his muscular body. Luna swallowed, blinked, then smiled. Merin was an intimidating beast but Luna had seen Thresals since she was young, and no matter how frightening or intimidating they were beautiful. Luna turned to her father and threw her arms around him, startling the elder male with the sudden burst of affection.

"Thank you." Luna breathed before pulling away. Celeborn smiled kindly and nodded.

"You will be traveling with Haldir to the Castle of King Oropher, once you have been safely established in the castle he shall return." Galadriel said.

Luna blinked owlishly. "Will I not be returning?" She implored.

Galadriel smiled, her slender fingers brushed against the side of her daughter's pale face. "I have a feeling that in time, you will not want to..." Galadriel said.

Luna's lips pursed, her eyebrows furrowed, and her eyes sparkled dreamily. She said nothing though and stepped away to allow someone to take the horse from the stall.

When Merin and another horse, golden in color, were saddled Haldir stepped into the stables. He wore a tunic and doe skin breeches, nothing like his usual armor, and he had a few weapons strapped to his body. He greeted his Lord and Lady very formally then turned to Luna with a smile.

"Good afternoon, Princess."

"Good afternoon, Mr. Moon." Luna chuckled.

Haldir's lip curves up, then he turned and walked off. Luna turned to her mother and father. "I shall miss you." Luna said, her eyes gleamed sadly in the sunlight.

"We shall always be with you... Now off you go. You must reach The Green Woods as soon as possible." Galadriel said before pulling the young elfling into a tight hug.

"Alámenë." Galadriel whispered as she pulled away.

Luna smiled. Go with our blessing. The words rang in her head as she said goodbye to her father. They two elves followed Luna to Merin's side where an elf helped her into the saddle- she could have done it herself... if she had wanted to dislocate the poor creature's whither- and watched as Haldir and Luna trotted out of the stables. Galadriel looked at Celeborn.

"Ithilwen shall be safe," she assured quietly, "He will not allow harm to fall upon our child."

Celeborn glaced at his wife. "So we shall see." He murmured.

* * *

Luna stared wide eyed as she and Haldir led their horses through the forest of Lorien, and into the land beyond the borders of said lands. Luna had never seen anything so beautiful... Well, aside from Hogwarts. The land was green and blue and pure in a way the lands of England weren't.

"Have you ever traveled to the Green Woods?" Luna implored.

"Several times, yes." Haldir stated.

"Do you think I shall like it?"

Haldir smiled a he glanced over at her. He adjusted his grip on his reins with a graceful ease and slowed his golden horse to a lazy trott. "I believe so," He commented, "Though I cannot be sure how you will take to the royals. His grace is just, a good king, his son..."

"Is he not kind?"

"You must understand Ithilwen, I have been friends with the prince since my boy hood years. He is not unkind, Mellon nin, he is merely distrustful of strangers."

"That must be very bothersome." Luna breathed.

"What do you mean? Have you not been wary of strangers?" Haldir asked.

"... I am wary of Death Eaters I have not met, I am wary of ministry workers, dark lords, and Orcs for I know they have done evil with no second thought... But no, I have never been wary of a stranger for they have never given me reason to do so."

If Haldir was surprised he made no indication of being so... If anything he had expected her answer. There was something about the dreamy eyed blonde that captivated you, it made her rather dangerous.

The two travelled for hours, past cool streams and rolling hills. At one point Luna had started humming, a strange tune that was neither sad nor happy. It was eerie. Haldir glanced at her but Luna's attention was diverted to the cloud of black smoke rising over the hills in the far distance. The humming slowly dwindled away and Luna's lips parted sadly.

"What is it?" Haldir asked, concerned for his friend.

"Death Eaters... I can feel the residue of their magic... We had best be moving on." There was a sadness in her voice as he turned her horse away and began walking in the direction of the Green Wood. Haldir followed beside her.

* * *

Hours pasted in the blink of an eye. The sun had begun to set and the moon had appeared in the sky, shedding its glamour and donning its cloak of darkness. It wasn't until the only light in the sky came from the silvery moon that Haldir decided to make camp. Luna easily slid out of her saddle and landed on the ground with a thump. Together the two elves set up their camp, rolling out sleeping bags and building a small fire. Luna sat directly in front of the orange flame.

"Would you like to tell stories? In the lands I grew up in, people would sit around and tell stories... I was not sure if the same concept applied here but I would be fun, would it not?" Luna tapped her chin.

Haldir smiled, leaned back against his travel bag, and nodded. "I would enjoy that. Would you like to start?"

Luna tapped her chin, suddenly she snapped, a smile spreading over her face. "There were once three brothers who were traveling along a lonely, winding road at twilight. In time, the brothers reached a river too deep to wade through and too dangerous to swim across. However, these brothers were learned in the magical arts, and so they simply waved their wands and made a bridge appear across the treacherous water. They were halfway across it when they found their path blocked by a hooded figure.

And Death spoke to them. He was angry that he had been cheated out of three new victims, for travelers usually drowned in the river. But Death was cunning. He pretended to congratulate the three brothers upon their magic, and said that each had earned a prize for having been clever enough to evade him.

So the oldest brother, who was a combative man, asked for a wand more powerful that any in existence: a wand worthy of a wizard who had conquered Death! So Death crossed to an elder tree in the banks of the river, and fashioned a wand from a branch that hung there, and gave it to the oldest brother.

Then the second brother, who was an arrogant man, decided that he wanted to humiliate death still further, and asked for the power to recall others from Death. So Death picked up a stone from the riverbank and gave it to the second brother, and told him that the stone would have the power to bring back the dead.

And then Death asked the third and youngest brother what he would like. The youngest brother was the humblest and also the wisest of the brothers, and he did not trust Death. So he asked for something that would enable him to go forth from that place without being followed by Death. And Death, most unwillingly, handed over his own Cloak of Invisibility.

Then Death stood aside and allowed the three brothers to continue on their way, and they did so, talking with wonder of the adventure they had had, and admiring Death's gifts.

In due course the brothers separated, each for his own destination.

The first brother traveled on for a week or more, and reaching a distant village, sought out a fellow wizard with whom he had a quarrel. Naturally, with the Elder Wand as his weapon, he could not fail to win the duel that followed. Leaving his enemy dead upon the floor, the oldest brother proceeded to an inn, where he boasted loudly of the powerful wand he had snatched from Death himself, and of how it made him invincible.

That very night, another wizard crept upon the oldest brother as he lay, wine-sodden, upon his bed. The thief took the wand and, for good measure, slit the oldest brother's throat.

And so Death took the first brother for his own.

Meanwhile, the second brother journeyed to his own home, where he lived alone. Here he took out the stone that had the power to recall the dead, and turned it thrice in his hand. To his amazement and his delight, the figure of the girl he had once hoped to marry, before her untimely death, appeared at once before him.

Yet she was sad and cold, separated from him as by a veil. Though she had returned to the mortal world, she did not truly belong there and suffered. Finally the second brother, driven mad with hopeless longing, killed himself so as truly to join her.

And so Death took the second brother for his own.

But though Death searched for the third brother for many years, he was never able to find him. It was only when he had attained a great age that the youngest brother finally took off the Cloak of Invisibility and gave it to his son. And then he greeted Death as an old friend, and went with him gladly, and as equals, they departed this world."

Haldir blinked. "That could not possibly be real." He stated.

"But of course it is a true story. I have seen the wand and the cloak, I have been in the presence of the descendants of the brothers... Besides, all stories derive from truth." Luna countered.

Haldir shrugged. "True enough... Tell me, Ithilwen, would you wish to be master of death?"

"No," Luna stated without hesitation, "I would never wish to be... Can you imagine? Never being able to die? Watching the world and those you love slip through time until they are nothing but names that you cannot recall? faces who's features are so blurred they smear together? It would be such a lonely existence."

"I forget that you are an elfling... You speak as if you've lived a thousand years and then some." Haldir said.

"How old must one be to be seen as an adult?" Luna questioned.

"For the elves it is fifty years of age."

"Wizards reach adulthood at the age of seventeen. That is the year when they are deemed mature enough to have the tracer on their magic removed." Luna chirped happily.

"Then you are less an elfling then some might think," Haldir confessed before turning his gaze toward the sky, "We really must be getting to sleep. We have a long day ahead of us if we are to reach the Green Woods before night fall."

Luna nodded once then with a yawn she crawled into her sleeping bag. Luna gazed up at the sky hours after Haldir had fallen asleep. It was as if someone had cut hundreds of thousands of holes into black fabric that had then been held in front of a wand as someone whispered Lumos. It was beautiful. That night, however, she dreamt of the man again, and as he held her in his arms on a bed of summer grass he whispered something in her ear that she couldn't make out due to the quietness of his voice but his tone made her heart soar and she slept with a smile on her face.


	9. Chapter 9

Luna woke before Haldir. She quietly rolled her sleeping bag up and shoved it into her pack before making her way over to Merin, who nickered softly at her. "Hush now." Luna giggled as she pulled a carrot from her saddle bag and gave it to the horse. Luna pulled her wand out after that and preformed a quick refreshening spell before turning to Haldir.

"Wakey wakey." She sang as she gently shook the elf's shoulder. Haldir woke with a start, barely avoiding hitting Luna in the with his own as he sat up. "... Next time I will use a stinging hex..." Luna mumbled pleasantly.

"Good morning..." Haldir greeted.

"The morning tis grand." Luna agreed with a posh accent.

"What time-"

"An hour past sun rise." Luna stated.

With a groan Haldir managed to pull himself to his feet. Luna held out a flask of water and some bread. "You look a bit peckish." Luna stated before skipping off.

Once Haldir had been fed and the horses watered the two elves took off at a fast gallop. Luna laughed gleefully, pulling ahead of Haldir's own horse. Her hair billowed out behind her like a cloak of white gold. Luna giggled happily and turned back to look at Haldir. Luna stopped and allowed the older male to catch up.

"I have a feeling that if we were to race, I would win." Luna joked.

"Perhaps." Haldir agreed with a chuckle.

"How long will you be staying once we reach the Green Woods?" Luna questioned.

"A couple of days at most. I really must be returning as soon as possible." Haldir stated.

"Then you will be able to meet Alastor and Neville." Luna smiled.

"I look forward to it." Haldir replied.

The two slipped into a comfortable silence. They rode for hours, Luna's legs were beginning to cramp and for once she wished for a broom... She had always loved flying. Really, really missed flying. Luna carefully adjusted the reins into one hand and then twisted her wand into the bun she had made.

"We shall be arriving in the Green Woods within the hour, it would be best if you wore this." Haldir said while throwing an overly large cloak at her.

Luna caught it and carefully threw it over her shoulders, pulling the hood up over her head so that it cast a long shadow over her face. "Why must I wear this?" Luna implored softly.

"When we enter the Green Woods we will be closer to Sauron's strong hold in Dol Guldur. You will be safer if you wear that." Haldir stated tensely.

Luna almost told him that she could always throw up a glamour charm but something about dressing up in order to hide was thrilling to the point that Luna didn't want to give up. Luna slowed to a walk beside Haldir.

An hour later Luna found herself staring up at a large expanse of towering trees. The Green Woods, Luna swallowed softly and gripped her wand beneath her cloak. Luna couldn't describe the feeling in her gut, it was like a cord had been tied around her stomach and was pulled so tautly that it could snap at any moment if Luna didn't head into the forest. Luna looked at Haldir.

"After you? I would go but I am not familiar with these parts..."

Haldir nodded once and urged his horse on ahead of Luna's. The Istari swallowed hard then with a slight nod she followed the older male into the forest. The forest... It was, familiar to Luna. Like a vague memory from a dream.

The two elves kept extremely quiet as they crept along the stone path. Merin shifted uneasily, only calming enough to continue on when Luna placed a steady hand upon his sinewy neck. Haldir turned from the path suddenly and Luna hesitated before tentatively urging Merin after him.

Haldir easily led them through the forest, deeper ad deeper until they came across another stone path. "I did not wish to risk an ambush." Haldir whispered under his breath as he led his own horse back onto the stone path.

"State your business." A man barked.

Luna jumped, her large silver eyes shooting around in a desperate search for the man who had spoken. She saw them of course, two male elves standing rigidly before a grand oak door. Each male held a bow aimed at their heads. Luna glanced at Haldir, he was swinging himself out of his saddle, their eyes locked, and then Luna began to dismount as well.

"Greetings, my name is Haldir of Lorien, and this is my traveling companion Lady Ithilwen of Lorien. We have been sent by the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien to see King Oropher." Haldir stated.

The two elves glanced suspiciously at them. Luna didn't blame them for their distrust on the account of being in the middle of a war and being so close to the enemy's stronghold. Luna stepped forward, gently pulling the hood of her cloak down, allowing silken waves to tumble over her shoulders.

"Please, I can assure you that we were sent with nothing but the best of intentions. My mother sent me here to collect the two men you found. One is tall with blonde hair and a fake eye, the other is shorter with dark hair and might have a toad with him... Both would have been carrying wooden sticks." Luna explained.

The two elves gazed at her, studied her with questioning eyes, before nodding and pulling the doors open. Haldir quickly led Luna through the doors. "Did you know that would convince them?" He asked softly.

"No... No I did not." Luna breathed, her eyes wide as she gazed around at the castle interior that surrounded her.

It was the most beautiful thing Luna had ever seen. A work of art so beautiful it made all other artistic works seem bland. There were pillars carved from living stone, lanterns, so beautiful in craftsmanship it made Luna smile, hung from walls and pillars,the floors beneath their feet were made of polished stone, and it reminded Luna of home. But the air was tense and filled with sorrow and heartbreak.

"Na vadui."

Luna turned to see a tall elf with golden hair and hazel eyes walking toward them. He wore robes like her father had and a crown of emerald tree leaves. Oropher, that was king Oropher of the Woodland realm. Luna and Haldir quickly placed their balled hands over their hearts.

"Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn." Haldir greeted kindly.

Oropher turned his attention to Luna. "You must be Lady Ithilwen. It is my pleasure to meet you." There was something in his eyes, a sparkle of amusement that gave the hint that there was something he wasn't saying.

"The pleasure is mine, I assure you." Luna replied.

Oropher smirked lightly then turned to Haldir. "I suppose you would like to see them? The elder male has given us quite some trouble."

"I believe it would put Lady Ithilwen's mind at ease if she were to see them."

Oropher bowed his head. "If you would follow me."

* * *

"Mad Eye," Neville groaned, "You aren't getting through that steel with a butter knife."

"I can sure as hell try!" Alastor barked, working harder to wedge the knife deeper into the notch he had been able to make in the metal bars of their cell... After three days.

Neville rubbed his forehead. How had this happened anyway? One minute he had been battling Death Eaters and the next he was in a hospital wing with three very attractive women standing over him, talking in a language he couldn't make out... And then they threw him in the cell with Mad Eye... To his utterly delighted surprise.

"Cowards they are," Mad Eye snarled, "Stealing a man's wand for no reason."

"You stupefied three people." Neville reminded.

Mad Eye stopped, and turned to look at the younger man, his enchanted eye shooting around like a, well... A Mad Eye. "Do you understand that those people were holding sword points at me?"

"You crash landed in their... Where ever... I think they'd be a little un trustful. Just a thought." Neville stated.

"Well, it appears someone has reached the end of their patience."

Both occupants of the cell whipped around. Neville smiled at the silvery haired, silver eyed beauty standing at the front of the cell. "Luna!" He exclaimed excitedly, rushing clumsily to the cell door.

"I don't understand, how are you here? And what are you wearing?"

"It's a long story." Luna blushed a bit from embarrassment. Neville waved his hand and reached through the bars to awkwardly pat his friend's shoulder.

"It's al-"

"Are you getting us out of here, girl?" Mad Eye barked.

Luna held up a finger before spinning on her heel and skipping up to the two tall- extremely tall- men. She waved her hands as she spoke in her typically, adorably, Luna-y way. It was as if she were explaining something, Luna kept pointing back at the cell and talking frantically. The man with a leaf hat nodded once and Luna skipped up to them with a smile.

"As of right now you," she pointed at Mad Eye, "Are the official defense against the Death Eaters professor... So basically you're going to be training a bunch of Auros... That aren't magical... And you!" Luna directed a slender finger at Neville, "You're going to to be our official Herbologist-healer... Person. But all in all, we, as a team will be kicking Death Eater arse!"

"L-Luna!" Neville stuttered, surprised by the sudden curse.

Luna blushed a deep red. "I was just trying it out." She mumbled before pulling her wand out and magically opening the cell.

"I don't like it." Mad Eye growled.

"You don't have a choice." Neville groaned.

"Come, King Oropher will have a servant show you to your chambers but you really must learn Elvish. So we need to preform a quick linguistics charm."

Mad Eye nodded gruffly, and Neville just nodded Before pulling the younger girl into a quick hug. It had been years since he had had feelings of anything other than a familiar nature for Luna so the hug held no intimacy and lasted no longer then twenty seconds. "I missed you, Loony." He stated fondly.

"I missed you too, Neville... And you as well Mr. Moody." Luna breathed.

"Yeah, yeah," Mad Eye growled, "Enough mushy stuff. I wanna get thos done quick as possible, ya hear?"

"Yes, Mr. Moody." The two magical beings chimed together.

With a largely exaggerated roll of a fake eye Moody limped over to Oropher and Haldir with a scowl, silently cursing- but not meaning it by any means- the little blonde witch who had roped him into wha. He was about to do.


	10. Chapter 10

"I can't believe you roped me into this." Mad Eye growled as he marched around the training grounds where he would be training not only the elves but Luna and Neville as well.

"Oh, I don't know," Neville mused to himself, twirling his relatively new wand in his thumb and forefinger, "It could be fun..."

"Besides," Luna commented, "In the end of things you will be able to go after Death Eaters."

Mad Eye scowled but kept quiet after that. No matter what, an Auror never looses his hate for a Death Eater. Never. Luna lazily flicked her silvery blonde hair over her shoulder. She crossed her doe skin covered legs and leaned back against the wall. Neville smiled kindly at her, and pulled at his emerald green tunic.

"Luna... Are you sure the linguistic charm will work?" Neville asked.

"It should," Luna mused, "Though, I have never had use of it here so I could be wrong."

"Right... You're some sort of princess... Aren't you?" Neville replied.

"Something to that extent, yes." Luna agreed.

"... So doesn't that mean you'll have to marry a prince? I mean, I don't care or anything... Well, no, no I do care but not for _that_ reason. It's just... I want you to be happy and if getting married doesn't make you happy..."

"Oh for the love of Merlin." Mad Eye grumbled as he watched the two.

"Well, I shall inform you of a marriage arrangement if one is arranged." Luna chuckled.

The two teenagers lapsed into a comfortable silence. Luna, however, did begin to wonder what her parents would do. It wasn't unheard of to arrange marriages between houses to form allies and powerful ties, and since Luna was a princess it would be top priority to marry her off to a noble or prince... Speaking of which... She hadn't seen the Elven Prince of the Green Woods, which disappointed her a bit, but he was patrolling and security of the people was top priority in a war.

An hour or so later Luna an Neville were ushered to stand by the door as elves, both male and female began filing into the training room. Luna's eyes raked over the tall beings as they carefully arranged themselves around the room. Neville turned red beside her and when Luna followed his gaze she saw a tall brown haired angel smiling at him. Luna smirked kindly.

"Listen closely," Mad Eye barked, "I am not here to be your friend, I am not here to drink ale with you and sing around a fire of happiness. I am here to keep you from being killed by something you are unprepared for." Mad Eye barked, his enchanted eye shooting every which way.

Mad Eye turned suddenly, his leather over coat flying out behind him, motioned at Luna and Neville, then with a flick of his wand and a mumble incantation a long platform built itself in the middle of the room. With a smile Luna skipped up to the platform with Neville following closely behind.

"As you may know, Luna, Neville, and myself are wizards... And a witch. Fortunately for you, we are the 'Good Guys.' we will not attack you for batting your pretty eyes at us. The Death Eaters, who have allied themselves with Sauron, will however. It is my duty as an Auror to make sure that these individuals are captured. Your duty is to survive when we," Mad Eye motioned at himself and the two teens, "Are not around to save your arses."

"Mr. Moody," Luna called, drawing the older man's attention, "You are making them uncomfortable."

Mad Eye scowled unpleasantly at the elves then barked out an order to Neville and Luna who quickly climbed up onto the platform. "These two will demonstrate the kind of magic you will be facing," Mad Eye growled then turned his attention to the two on the platform, "You are not allowed to use the three unforgivable curses. When you are ready."

Luna and Neville bowed to one another, eyes never leaving the other, and then Neville's arm shot up. "Stupify!" He yelled. Luna gasped softly.

"Ennervate!"

The vibrant red light flew away, cracking into a stone pillar. Mad Eye barely gave it a second glance while the astonished elves in the room cried out in shocked surprise.

"Flipendo!"

Luna yelped softly as the spell hit her in the chest. Her body twisted through the air, slamming painfully into a wall, elves cried out in out rage, many even made a threatening move toward Neville only to be stopped by Mad Eye. Luna pushed herself up, wiping blood from her cracked lip.

"Avifors." She chirped, her wand flicking toward Neville.

Neville paled as the small stones under his feet turned into tiny yellow birds. The birds shot into the air, a screech left their beaks, and like tiny little bomber planes the birds flew at Neville. Once Neville had destroyed the tiny little birds he turned to Luna with a scowl. "Was that necessary?" He gripped.

"Enough chatter!" Mad Eye barked.

Luna smiled sweetly- although it did hold a certain amount if wickedness, and threw a spell at Neville. Soon lights and objects of all different colors and shapes were hurtling through the air like a storm. Mad Eye even threw up a barrier to keep any wayward spells from hitting the elves, who watched in amazmnent behind him. It wasn't until one of Luna's well aimed spells hit Neville, temporarily binding his feet to the floor, which in turn, caused him to fall.

"Look around you," Mad Eye commanded, stepping forward to stand by luna who was helping Neville to his feet, "This was merely a duel... A training stimulation if you will. The spells these two were using caused only minimal damage. Imagine what the Death Eaters could do. This is what you are dealing with. This, is not child's play. I am here to train warriors, if you want out leave before it's to late."

Only a few elves slipped from the room. Others remained, looking around at the battered columns and smoldering floors. Luna wiped the sweat from her brow and smiled reassuringly. "Alastor Moody was one of the best Aurors alive. If anyone is going to train you to fight against the Death Eaters, you want it to be this man." Luna chimed in while absently repairing her damage clothing.

* * *

Half an hour later Mad Eye had set up a large table where all of the elves had been told to gather as he, Luna, and Neville informed them of different types of spells, hexes, jinxes, and curses. Luna discreetly watched Neville and the dark haired elleth as they spoke, a small smile curling her lips upward.

"There are three unforgivable curses. They are: The killing curse, the Cruciatrtus curse, and the Imperius curse. These three spells will be used by the Death Eaters-"

"Have you ever used them, Lord Mad Eye?" An elf asked.

"No, never," Luna stated, glancing at Neville and Mad Eye, "We have all had... Unpleasant encounters with these curses. We do not, nor shall we ever use them."

"They are dark magic. And we do not dabble in the dark arts." Mad Eye snarled.

"I apologize," the mad stated, "I was merely curious."

Luna remained silent for a moment. The room tensed and Mad Eye touched his enchanted fake eye. "I lost my eye fighting a Death Eater, I was on a mission. Simple enough, go in, get the hostages out, capture the Death Eaters... It didn't end well. I lost half of my garrison and my eye."

The elves stared at the enchanted blue eye. Their own wide with horror or disgust or both. It was odd to watch them try and come to grips with the fact that there were wizards willing to kill a child and not bat an eyelash in the dying child's direction... It was odd because Luna had grown up to that kind of magic. To a world where not all magical beings were fair and just and kind.

The doors to the room threw themselves open, beating against the walls with a thunderous boom. There was a soldier standing at the door, his face was pale and bruised along his jaw. He spoke almost to quickly to understand, and even with her natural knowledge of the language Luna could only make out certain things. Patrolling, Death Eater, an ambush, a dragon... An injured prince. Luna turned to Mad Eye.

"The Death Eaters attacked the prince while he was patrolling. He's alive but I cannot be sure for how much longer." Luna said, switching over to English so that only Neville and Mad Eye could understand.

"You're dismissed!" Mad Eye barked out in elvish before grabbing Luna and Neville's shoulders and leading them after the elf standing at the doorway.

* * *

The healing chambers were in a state of complete disarray. Healers ran around the room in a desperate attempt to find all of the things they would need to heal their prince. Luna immediately shot into the fray, weaving her way around the elves and yo the bed where many had gathered around including Oropher and Haldir.

"My god.." Mad Eye breathed upon seeing the body lying in the bed.

The prince had been rolled onto his side, exposing the burnt flesh left behind by the Death Eaters. Luna knew the curse, a nasty little piece of magic that would be easy enough to heal in the prince didn't succumb to his wounds first.

"Can you help him?" Oropher questioned.

Mad Eye turned to Neville. "I need you to get the Blood-Replenishing potion, and the burn-healing paste from my chambers. It's locked, have your wand with you... And get the Calming Draught and the Deflating Draught while you're at it!" He yelled after Neville.

Luna turned to the Prince, his eyes were closed and his teeth were gnashed together. He must have been in a great deal of pain, even in sleep. Luna's hand reached on and pulled gently on the slightly injured shoulder, causing the prince to roll onto his back. His shirt had been removed upon entering the healing ward, and as a result Luna could clearly see the small burns that lined his chest. Bright scarlet skin and popped blisters lined his defined upper body. Luna looked at Oropher.

"These were made by dragons, correct?" She implored while pushing heavy curls from her face.

"Yes, albeit, a rather small one." the soldier from earlier stated.

"He'll be just fine... A few days in that bed, a couple of potions, and a lot of rest and he'll be good as new." Mad Eye stated, as soothingly as possible... It wasn't as soothing as something Luna could have come up with but it worked well enough.

"I've got it!"

Luna turned and sprinted over to Neville and took some of the jars and vials from his hands. The two teens quickly went over to the bed as Mad Eye commanded everyone but Oropher and Haldir to leave. Luna went to work uncorking vials and removing the lid from a large jar filled with orange paste., when she was done she began handing them to Mad Eye, who expertly poured the potions into the prince's mouth and made him swallow with as little amount of pain as possible. Luna went to hand him the Burn-Healing Paste but Mad Eye held up a calloused hand.

"You'd best be doing that girl," Mad Eye barked, "You're less likely to cause him pain."

Luna nodded once then dipped her fingers into the jar. Thick orange paste covered her fingers, threatening to drip onto the bed and floor. Luna started on the chest firs. Seeing as to how the burns were smaller and not as bad as the one on his face. Luna's paste covered fingers ghosted over the bared chest, his skin was almost fiery hit beneath her paste covered fingers. When his chest was covered in the orange paste Luna turned to Mad Eye ad Neville. "You may need to hold him..." The two men nodded and carefully took hold of his arms and shoulders.

Luna nodded once and began to smear the sweet smelling paste over the prince's face burns. The prince thrashed, his hands clawed at the bloodied sheets beneath him, and a pained yelp slipped past his lips yet his eyes remained closed. Luna pulled away when the left portion of the prince's face and neck was covered in paste.

"There's nothing more I can do." Luna stated as she wiped her hands on a cloth Neville handed her.

"He'll have a scar when he heals, but it can easily be concealed... In case you were wondering..." Neville scratched the back of his neck.

Luna carefully seated herself in the chair beside the sick bed. "I shall remain here, there is no point in waiting for someone to awaken when it may be hours before they do so. You have a realm to protect and they need to teach your soldiers... Besides, your son will be disoriented when he awakens. He may become violent, it would be best if I were here."

The occupants of the room drew silent. "Very well," Oropher hesitated in saying, "Though I must ask you to summon me should he awaken."

"I would expect nothing less."

Oropher nodded once, and as the others left the room The Elven King placed his hand on his son's shoulder. "I should have made him stay and greet you when I heard from the Lady Galadriel that you were arriving... He was adamant about making sure Sauron's forces were not moving toward our kingdom."

"There was no way you could have known," Luna replied, "There was no way to predict such an attack. Do no blame yourself for something you cannot control."

Oropher nodded sadly then with the grace of a king, he turned and made his way toward the door. He stopped though and turned to look at Luna. "Thranduil, that is my son's name. I realized you might not have known." And then he was gone and Luna was left to sit beside the sick bed with a gentle smile.


	11. Chapter 11

Luna sat in that chair for hours. She had pulled her legs up to rest her chin on her knees, and wrapped her arms around her shins, and summoned a book. The Calming Draught that rested on the stand beside the bed twinkled up at her. She nursed a cup if Earl Gray Tea between her hands and watched Thranduil.

Luna had applied a new coat of Burn-Healing paste to his face and had wiped away the old layer that covered his once burned chest. He was rather handsome, and Luna couldn't shake the feeling of familiarity as she looked at him. She knew she had seen him somewhere before but no matter how hard she tried to remember the memory slipped away from her like water between open fingers.

Luna sighed quietly, placed her mug down on the table, and moved so that she could check Thranduil's wound, see if it had healed any more or no. If it hadn't then Luna would have to break out her wand and try something else... Or summon some Essence of Dittany. Neither of which she wanted to do if it were avoidable. Luna reached out tentatively, keeping herself perfectly balanced as to not shift or jostle the injured prince. There was a brief flicker of movement beneath Thranduil's eyelids, a slightly shift of his dark eyelashes. Luna hesitated then with a shake of her head she reached out and began peeling the dried orange paste away from the sleeping man's face.

Luna gasped loudly as one hand wrapped around the wrist of her hand that hovered over Thranduil's face and another wrapping around her neck in a some what gentle way. Grey eyes met intense blue.. Well one blue and one milky white. Luna's hand lunged for the Calming Draught, she half expected his hand to tighten around her neck but he didn't seem to notice... Of course, he had been blinded in one eye by dragon fire, Luna almost kicked herself. Instead she easily uncorked the vial and brought it closer.

"Who are-"

As soon as his lips opened Luna dumped the draught into his mouth and carefully placed her hand over his mouth in order to keep him from spitting the contents out. The shattering of the vial seemed to echo through the healing ward like thunder had thundered through the Ravenclaw tower all those days ago.

"Drink," Luna said, her voice soothingly sweet, "If you don't I cannot answer the questions you surely have."

Thranduil's eyes bulged, his hands weakly attempted to force Luna away. "Please do not make me force you to drink this." Luna begged, her eyes pleading. She had never liked using force against someone, even now as she held her hand over his mouth Luna's stomach churned. As if sensing her growing discomfort Thranduil hesitatingly swallowed the sweet tasting liquid. Luna smiled and remove her hand.

"I believe you were asking who I was." Luna smiled charmingly.

Thranduil stared at the elf sitting to his left. He had to turn his head in order to see her. There was a dull pain in his face and there was nothing but blackness in his eyes. He reached up slowly, his fingers brushed against something dry and crusty.

"Oh! No, allow me. If you do it you may cause yourself more damage... I was going to remove the paste when you woke up anyway." Luna breathed.

Thranduil's hand dropped from his face and landed at his side. The woman reached up, her hands gently touching the paste, he could feel the warmth of her fingers from beneath the paste. The warmth was nothing like the scalding pain of the Dragon fire, it was far more pleasurable. The chilly bite of air hit his face causing him to jump ever so slightly.

"The burn is healing nicely... Almost completely gone. Though you will have a scar." Te girl breathed.

Thranduil remained quiet. What was a scar to him? "My eye... Can you fix it?"

"I should be able to. Yes. I can even conceal your scar if you wish."

"I would be much obliged." Thranduil stated.

The girl smiled kindly, grabbed a polished wooden stick, and pointed the tip at his face. She began to mumble something under her breath. It started with a sharp sting, then a cool rush, and then his vision in his eye came back and his face was left tingling. "I made it so you can remove the concealment whenever you wish... Oh! I almost forgot, your Ada is waiting for me to send him a message."

Thranduil watched as the girl stood and began to pull something from her pocket. It was a vial of sluggish blue liquid. "If the pain come back, drink about half of this. I shall return later to check on you."

The girl turned, her long silvery hair swirling around her like a cloak. Thranduil reached out and caught her slim wrist, she stilled, Thranduil ignored the way his hand seemed to tingle when he touched her.

"I do not know your name." Thrandui stated.

"Luna... Though everyone seems to prefer Ithilwen... Though Ithilwen does mean Luna." Luna tapped her chin.

Thranduil felt mortified that he hadn't seen it sooner. That uncanny resemblance between the Lord and Lady of Lothlorien and the girl standing before him should have been obvious.

"You have my apologies, My Lady. I was unaware."

Luna waved her hand. "Stop being silly. There was no way you could have know in the state of mind you were in."

Thranduil sighed under his breath. Luna smiled kindly at him, revealing her top set of pearly whites. "Remember. Half of the vial." Luna directed, pointing playfully at the vial.

Thranduil nodded once, acknowledging her orders. "Thank you." He said, politely.

"It was nothing." Luna chirped happily.

Thranduil watched her as she turned on her heel and began skipping from the healing ward. Thranduil fell back against his pillows. Twisting the vial in his hand, he shifted, then put the vial on the bedside table. He closed his eyes, there had been something about Ithilwen, something familiar that went beyond the hereditary looks of her house. It almost felt like... Magic.


	12. Chapter 12

"Do you like it here, Luna? Do you ever think of going home?" Neville implored.

"I do enjoy it here... Back in England... It was beautiful yes, but here it is pure and perfect and this is the most at home I have felt in years, Neville." Luna breathed as she played with an emerald leaf.

The two teens had been given permission by Mad Eye to take a break from training the elves and explore the small space that surrounded the castle that Luna and Mad Eye and Neville had set a magical barrier around. Luna dipped her feet into the cool river and leaned back against the river bank. She had been able to transfigure some fabrics into jumpers and sweaters and trousers for not only themselves but for Mad Eye as well... Neville and Mad Eye weren't exactly... Comfortable in elvish garments.

"I miss my grandmother." Neville stated, skipping a smooth rock across the river.

"She would be proud... Your parents would be as well." Luna stated, picking absently at the fraying hem of her jumper.

"... Do you think we have a chance at winning this? I mean... Do you think we can beat these people? The Death Eaters and Sauron?"

"I believe that if we believe we cannot stand a chance then we have already been defeated." Luna replied.

Neville dropped onto the surprisingly dry river bank and groaned. His hands flew to his face and her rubbed the palm of his hand into his eye. "Do you know how hard it is to teach herbology to these elves! It's bloody awful! They're always wanting to tell me I'm wrong and that I don't know what I'm talking about. It's a bloody mad house!"

Luna chuckled, her lips pulling back in a soft smile. "At least you never need to handle Mandrake Roots."

Neville paled, his mind flying back to his second year of Hogwarts. He blushed and suddenly Luna was hit with a small wave of water that caused her trousers to cling to her skin like paint clung to a canvas. Luna glared good naturedly at Neville, who removed his hand from the water and smirked.

"You will pay for that." Luna declared as she dunked her cupped hands into the water and thrust them toward Neville. The water hit him in the face, drenching his sweater and his trousers and his hair. It ran off of his skin and dripped lazily from his nose and chin. he looked like a wet dog with his hair falling about his face in wet, unruly clumps of dark brown. Neither were aware of the intense blue eyes that watched them from the trees.

"Mature," Neville grumbled as he began to ring water out of his sweater, leaving it awkwardly shaped and hanging loosely around the body. "Why is it I always end up getting wet?"

Luna rolled her eyes. "You do not always get wet... You just happen to have horrid timing. Or perhaps you have an exceptional talent of being in the right place at the wrong time? It is rather confusing, but surely you understand."

Thranduil watched the two from his perch hidden in the trees. He had found the silver haired beauty rather intriguing. She was unlike another woman, mortal or no, he had ever met. There was a light that surrounded Ithilwen, daughter of the Lord and Lady of light, that drew him in like a moth would be drawn to a flame. It had taken him a day and a half to figure out why Ithilwen had appeared so familiar. Thranduil couldn't quite remember it but he knew that he had dreamt of her, the memory of the dreams were foggy but they were there and he could remember being content. And so he watched her, followed her, became enchantedly intrigued by her.

"Do you think they're waiting for us to slip up?"

"I would suspect so... They have not attacked nor have they seemed to want to since the incident with the Prince."

"That's what worries me. Death Eaters aren't this low key. They enjoy killing to much." Neville stated.

"We just have to wait them out... But I do worry." Luna breathed tiredly. "It is odd tha they have waited so long to attack."

"Maybe they're trying to get allies?" Neville suggested.

Thranduil leaned forward slightly, his face twitched as a slight tug came from the left portion of his face. It was odd to feel yet not quite feel one's face. Of course he was eternally grateful to the young elleth sitting with her feet in the river, but he still found it odd. With the silentness of an elf Thranduil slid from his hiding place.

"I do not think that is why they have not attacked." Luna sighed, raking a hand through her damp hair.

"Well... Do you think we're screwed?"

"For the most part?" Neville nodded. "No... No, I do not think so."

Thranduil stepped up behind Ithilwen and the human boy that Rovain had become smitten with. They made an odd friendship, the elleth and the human boy, but it gave the elven prince an odd sense of comfort to know that their was someone who could protect the princess of light without being a romantic threat.

"Would you like to join us?" luna implored kindly, looking over her shoulder at Thranduil.

The prince blinked once before stepping up beside the blonde and the dark haired boy. "Good morning." He greeted the human boy before exchanging the traditional elven greeting with Ithilwen.

They sat there for a moment, silent, then Ithilwen sighed. "Are you always so sullen?" She implored looking at Thranduil, who raised a dark eyebrow.

"Are you always so blunt?" Thranduil asked.

"Yes, actually, she is." Neville replied while ringing out his jumper.

"Only because being blunt is better then being a liar." Ithilwen replied.

"But no less insensitive." Neville joked.

Ithilwen laughed, her head tipping back So that her face could be warmed by the sun. "I never mean to hurt anyone. But lying has a tendency of doing just that."

Thranduil found himself oddly fascinated with the elleth beside him. She was no older then him, still an elfling but quickly approaching the day they became adults, yet she saw the world and herself as well as others in a way that only elves of a great age could, and it thrilled him. Endeared her to him in a way others had never been able to. The young prince mentally shook himself, what did it matter if he found one woman interesting? What did it matter if he found the way she scrunched up her nose endearing? What did it matter if he found himself enthralled with her eyes? What did it matter that he found her way of speaking endearing? It didn't.

"It's lovely here..." Ithilwen breathed out, a small smile spreading over her face.

"I guess it is, kind of reminds me of the forbidden forest." Neville agreed.

Luna chuckled. "When did you decided to challenge the danger of the dark forest?" She mocked.

"Professor Sprout took me out there... Once or twice."

"More like you went without permission." Luna giggled.

Thranduil found himself smiling. For the first time in months he was laughing and smiling and absolutely enjoying himself. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him when the bright purple shot out of the trees, beating against some form of a barrier before dissipating away, but it did, and it frightened him as well. The two magical beings shot up, their wands appearing as if out of air. Thranduil stood as well, placing himself slightly in front of Ithilwen.

"Stay back." She commanded softly, moving so that she stood directly in front of him and to his left with her arm extended so that it prevented him from moving forward.

Two hooded people stepped out of the shadows. Their hoods were pulled up only enough to hide their hair but it was quite obvious the two were related. They both had the same oily pale skin, their eyes were small and black, their nosed slanted up, and when they smiled they revealed rotting teeth. Though it wasn't their appearance that sickened Thranduil, it was the darkness that surrounded them like a heavy cloak that smelt of rot and death.

"Look it, Amycus! Look it, the little blood traitor and the elf bitch." The female cackled, spittle flying from her lips.

"Amycus, Alecto. What do you want?" Neville hissed.

"Such atrocious manners, aren't you going to let us past your barrier. We'll discuss our terms, all civil like." Alecto snickered.

"No. You are not welcome here." Luna stated, tersely.

The twins smirked. "Very well then." They sneered together. Their wands raised, level with their shoulders, wand tips pointed to the sky.

"Get down!"

Thranduil found himself on the ground only a second later, the lighter weight of the silver haired lady pressing against him. His ears rang with the deafening sounds of cracking stones and snapping trees. With great effort Thranduil opened his eyes, through the curtain of silvery blonde hair he saw something he would never forget. Trees were uprooting on themselves, rocks were cracking open and they swirled through the air, glowing with infused power, then they would beat against the barrier, which pulsated every time an object hit it. He felt Ithilwen's weight leave him only a moment later.

"The barrier!" Neville shouted, enraged.

The two quickly went about reinforcing the barrier, it did little good. Soon there were holes forming in the barrier and spells began flying through the cracks. Vibrant lights and horrific screams. Thranduil pulled himself up, bow drawn, arrow notched. He leased his arrow at the man, the silvery arrow flew through the air, ripped through the weakening barrier, and embedded itself in the man's chest. Amycus roared, stumbling back against the tree, his blood dripping down his body.

"Amycus!"

Thranduil watched as the sister whirled around, her eyes blazing with a terrific rage. "You did this." She snarled, wand raised. Thranduil reached for another arrow, the white fletching sliding through his calloused fingers. Thranduil was quick, but the woman was quicker. The blindly purple spell shot at him and for a moment Thranduil thought of dragon fire and a pain to great to bare. Though his time the pain never came.

Luna shoved the elven prince away. Alecto's curse hit her full force, sending her flying backwards. Luna cried out as her body snapped against a tree, she tumbled to the ground, laying in a dazed heap. _Get up_, she yelled to herself, _get up_! Luna pushed herself up, her hand slipping over red stained rocks. Get up, she needed to get up. She needed to get Thranduil and Neville out of there, she needed to get them all to safety.

The ringing in her ears was deafening, the voices of Thranduil and Neville and the Carrow twins was so faint they were dream like. "We... We... Need to go." Luna stated, stumbling over to Thranduil. She gripped his wrist in her hand, twirled her wand in the other, sent a curse at the Carrow twins, then disapperated away.

They appeared in the throne room, or maybe it was the training room. Everything was blurry to the silver haired princess. The world was a swirl of earth tones and worried faces. She felt like she was falling, maybe she was falling, maybe she was dying. She sure felt like it.

"Stay awake, get a medic!"

Luna coughed violently, blood staining her lips and her chin. Forcing herself to focus, Luna looked at her hands, they were stained red with thick liquid, as was her stomach, hip, and upper thigh. "Oh..." It was all she could say, what was she supposed to say? Luna looked up, her silvery eyes meeting familiar blue ones.

Thranduil wasn't sure what he felt as he carried the bleeding elleth to the healing wing. Worry, yes. But there were other feelings as well, feelings that stirred a great panic in his chest at just the thought of Ithilwen dying. His clothes were stained with her blood and for a moment he cursed her for pushing him away. He knew pain, he could handle pain, he was the warrior, and although women could be as well, the thought of Ithilwen bleeding for him, dying for him, made Thranduil sick. When he entered the hospital wing, he was ushered to a bed and once she was laying on the bed Thranuil was pushed out the door. He wanted to storm back into the room, demand that they let him stay, but he knew well enough that distracting the healers would do little good for Ithilwen, and so he leaned against the wall, breathing heavily, and staring at blood soaked hands. Silently cursing the elleth who saved him at the risk of her own life.


	13. Chapter 13

The healers were more then competent, and even with Mad Eye's magic to help close the wound, the elven healers had already purged the darkness from the gagged cut that ran from her stomach to her hip.

Luna knew she was lucky to be alive, lucky to have survived the darkness of the curse. Luna knew full well that she had been stupid to jump in front of that curse, stupid, stupid, stupid, but if she hadn't then Thranduil would have been injured.

"You are foolish."

Speak of the Devil and he shall come. Luna carefully pulled herself up, hand pressed firmly to her side, easing the pain. "I wouldn't say that I was being foolish. Maybe irrational or irresponsible for my well being, but, not foolish." Luna chuckled.

Thranduil did not look impressed. At all. His lips were pursed and his dark eyebrows were pinched inward, causing his eyes to narrow, worry sparkled in the dark depths of Thranduil's blue eyes alongside anger.

"You are foolish. I would have suspected you to think before attempted something so foolish. You are barely an elfling and yet you act like one." Thranduil bit out tensely.

Luna blinked once, tilted his head to the side, and then smiled, a triumphant attempt to catch Thranduil off guard. "If I didn't know better. I would have to guess that you actually cared for me enough to be worried." Luna joked though her mind chewed over his earlier words. Barely an elfling? That couldn't be possible. Elves reached adulthood at the age of one hundred, she was only eighteen and Thranduil was no older than her.

"You," Thranduil stated tensely, "Are the daughter of Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. You, are a very powerful Istari. You, are also reckless." Thranduil wasn't sure why he was so upset, was it because the girl sitting before him was so stupidly ready to throw away her life... Throw her life away for him. It wasn't a pleasant thought.

"Thranduil, I apologize for making you worry... Would you mind helping me to the dressing screen? I've been cleared to leave and it wouldn't be appropriate to be seen wondering the corridors in a night dress." Luna swung her feet over the side of the bed, her bare feet brushing the cool stone floor.

Thranduil nodded, extending his hands so that he could help the slightly younger girl to her feet. Luna excepted the hand and painfully pulled herself to her feet. She felt a little bad for asking the prince to escort her to the dressing area but when the healers had been there earlier Luna had been in far to much pain to accept their offered help, so there she was, stumbling over to the dressing screens where clothing awaited her. Luna had never been clumsy, not really, but when one is injured being clumsy does tend to happen. This time was no exception. Luna gasped loudly, more of a squeak then a gasp really, as her left foot caught the back of her right sending her pitching forward.

Thranduil reacted quickly, he quickly latched hold of Ithilwen's upper arms, pulling her back to his chest in an attempt to keep her from hitting the floor. They story that way for a moment, silent, and a mere hairs width apart from the other. Thranduil could fell the downy softness of Ithilwen's curls against his chin, he smelt the subtle smell of roses as it wafted from Ithilwen's personal space and into his eyes own. A brief moment passed where Thranduil didn't want to let Ithilwen go, he even went as far as to move his hand to her wrist, pulling her even closer to him.

"I... I'm sorry."

The moment broke and Thranduil reluctantly let the silver haired girl go. "It was to be expected of you in your current state." He uttered.

Luna smiled shyly and ducked behind the dressing screen. As quickly as possible Luna stripped out of her night gown, tossing the somewhat bloodied dress up so that it drapped itself over the dressing screen. Slowly, Luna stepped into a dress of a deep green color, reaching around she struggled it lace the dress up to an appropriate hight, but the pain of her wound only allowed her to twist her arms to a certain point before the nausea hit.

"Damn." She muttered while pulling her wand from the holster on her fore arm and her hair over her left shoulder. Hopefully she had enough concentration to pull off the spell she was planning on using.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil called from the other side of the dressing screen, his concern obvious.

"Oh, yes. It's just the laces is all." Luna replied, blushing darkly for no apparent reason.

A moment later Luna stepped out from behind the dressing screen. She smiled shyly at the golden haired boy and tucked her wand back into place. Thranduil stared at Ithilwen, taking in the color of her hair in yhe light, the brightness of her eyes, the paleness of her skin against the emerald of the gown she wore. Beautiful.

"May I escort you?" Thandruil implored, offering his arm.

"I would like that." Luna stated while slipping her finger tips around Thranduil's arm. Thranduil quickly adjusted them so that the palm of her hand was cupped around his forearm.

The two walked slowly through the corridors, more for the sake of eachother's company rather then Luna's injury but they didn't mind. The two spoke of many things, such as England and Hogwarts and Harry Potter. Thranduil found himself fascinated with the magic Ithilwen possessed. They talked of the Green Woods and of the dwarves and of pass times the two participated in.

Luna found herself smiling as she listened to Thranduil talk of his huntig trips. Personally Luna didn't really care for hunting, it wasn't that she didn't like meat or was sickened by the bloodshed, death was part of life after all, it was the cruelty of the sport. Letting an animal suffer for hours with an arrow in it's side before the ones hunting it were able to deliver the killing blow, the thought disgusted her.

"Are you skilled in any form of weaponry?" Thranduil asked.

"Honestly, no. I've never had to learn how to wield anything by my wand as far as weaponry goes." Luna replied.

There was a moments pause. "I could teach you, if you'd like." He would never admit it but Thranduil truly did want to teach the elleth to fight. It made him uneasy to think about her being unprotected if she were to ever loose her wand.

"I would appreciate it if you would, but, I don't want to be a burden. You're a prince and I wouldn't want to take your attention away from your duties."

"I assure you, you would be doing no such thing. I think a short sword, or perhaps duel swords would work best for you, of corse, I'll also be teaching you to use a bow as well." Thranduil stated, carefully observing the girl's slim fingers.

"Thank you." Luna breathed softly.

Thranduil nodded curtly. Glancing out of the corner of his eye, Thranduil found himself examining the elleth beside him. She was rather small, her hair was more wave then curl but contained just enough curl to be considered, well, curly, her eyes were large, and there was a scar just under her ear that disappeared into her hair line. Thranduil found himself curious as to ware she had gotten it, and silently vowing to kill anyone who had touched her.

"I got it when I was seven. I was quite fond of the stream that ran through the property my foster father owned. One day while I was swimming I slipped and hit my head." Luna said kindly.

Thranduil blinked. "I apologize for my rudeness." Thranduil murmured.

"It's quite alright... Well, this is me. Thank you, for everything." Luna breathed, leaning slightly against her door frame. A silvery curl fell into her face, obscuring her vision of the god-like elf before her. Luna reached up, preparing to tuck the curl away, but another hand, strong and firm, beat her to the task.

Thranduil wasn't sure what had possessed him to do it, to reach out and tuck away the silken curl that hun in Ithilwen's face, when he had no right to do so. It was an intimate action, one that only elves who had been pledged to another or betrothed performed. Though, at that moment, Thranduil didn't give a damn if someone saw him, he didn't give a damn if it was deemed inappropriate. In that moment all that mattered was the tingle that traveled across his fingers as the tips of his fingers traced the skin that covered Ithilwen's cheeks, the subtle flush of pink that covered her skin from ear to ear and down to her neck line.

Thranduil found himself leaning forward ever so slightly, and thus the moment was broken. Thranduil pulled away with a slight clearing of his throat and looked at Ithilwen. "I'll meet you in the training grounds after you break your fast."

"Of course." Luna breathed softly, hopping her voice wasn't shaking.

Thranduil politely wished her fare well before turning and making his way down the corridor. Luna watched him until his lithe figure disappeared around a corner. Luna quickly entered her chambers. The door was shut and bolted and Luna found herself leaning her forehead against the door, shaky breaths leaving her parted lips. A smile tugged at her lips.

Luna had no problem in admitting that she found herself attracted to the elvish prince. Why would she be ashamed of being attracted the him? Luna bit her lip. Elves mated for life, they weren't like humans, who's emotions could flip so easily between love and hate. Elves loved only once in their life and loved only those that they were destined for.

Luna shoved away from the door. She could be wrong, she could just find Thranduil attractive the way she found Harry attractive or Neville even. Strictly platonic. Luna sighed tiredly and made her way over to the window seat, she sat down heavily and smiled a bit. Hadn't her mother said that in time she wouldn't want to leave The Green Woods? Had the Lady Galadriel meant that Luna would find her destined? Before Luna could think further on the subject, a sharp pain in her side reminded Luna as to why she had left the healing ward. With slow steps Luna made her way to her emergency stash of potions and quickly downed one for the pain.


	14. Chapter 14

The next morning Luna found herself twisting back her hair and looking in the full length mirror of her room. Smoothing down her tunic, Luna nodded, deciding she looked presentable. After tucking her wand into its safe spot behind her ear Luna pushed open the door of her chambers and skipped into the corridor.

Silently, Luna made her way to the training grounds, which had been modified by Mad Eye so that the three Istari could train and not endanger any unsuspecting elves that may have been training. Luna wasn't at all hungry, even though she knew food would do her good, she was far to excited to be able to consume anything.

The training grounds were by no means small. In adition to the extention charm Luna had preformed and the weapons area there was an area where the elves could practice running over moving objects as well as an area where they could practice avoiding wizard projections that shot stunners at them. Luna, however, paid very little attention to the training elves amd made her way to the archery ranges. A small one, albeit, but it was mainly used for elflings and begginers. Luna assumed that was where Thranduil would be. She was right, of course, and as soon as she entered the archery range Luna found herself gazing at the back of Thranduil's head.

Luna watched silent, as Thranduil practiced. Amazed by the seemingly effortless grace in which he drew back an arrow, a silly amazement really, but Luna wasn't complaining any. She watched as an arrow whizzed through the air, splitting open another arrow that stood in it's way of a perfect bulls eye.

"I think you'd enjoy the story of Robin Hood. Though, I don't take you for one interested in muggle stories." Luna commented with a smile.

Thranduil turned slowly, bow lowered, body relaxed. "Robin Hood? Is that a great tale of your previous lands?" Thranduil implored, eyes slowly taking in the elleth before him.

"Something of the sort. Though I much prefered the tales of Beatle the Bard. Muggle stories tend to be terribly morbid."

Luna took a few steps forward, only stopping when she was a mere foot or so from the ellon. She smiled cheerfully. "Good morning." She said.

Thranduil smiled. "To you as well. Shall we? There is a bow being crafted for you, it will be finished on the morrow, but for today you will be using my own bow."

Luna nodded slowly. "Thank you."

"Do you know how to hold a bow?" Thranduil implored.

"Not correctly."

Thranduil nodded once and after grabbing a bow for himself, he stood beside Luna and began deminstrating movements and the propper techniques and ways to not shoot yourself. It was all very interesting, and Luna enjoyed listening to him speak, it was like listening to Hermione when she talked about a favorite book.

"Understand?" Thranduil questioned.

"Yes. I think so." Luna nodded her head as she spoke and slowly raised the bow. She positioned her hands the way Thranduil had- he made a few minor adjustments, saying she's end up shooting herself in the finger before shooting an opponent- and she notched the arrow the way he had. Either her aim was off or Luna had truly no talent at using a bow. The arrow hadn't even hit close to her target and the tips of her ears turned red with slight embarrassment at making a fool of herself in front of Thranduil. The ellon laughed however and slowly walked behind Luna, readjusting her stance and elbows as he went.

Luna's heart raced, it's erratic pulse could be felt in the tips of her toes, and for once she wished she had worn some sort of perfume, because Thranduil was so close to her that she could smell him and she could feel his warmth through both of their clothing. "I'll show you." He stated while guiding her hands and arms as he, or was it she, notched an arrow. Luna swallowed, almost missing the moment the arrow she released hit dead center.

"Um... Thank you." Luna stuttered out, blushing from her neck to ear tips. Thranduil nodded and before he stepped away he took a quick sniff of Ithilwen's hair. She smelt of honey comb in that moment.

"Practice, it will come naturally in time."

Luna blinked at him. "I've realized something." She stated slowly, her surprised looking eyes glittering.

"What might that be?" Thranduil implored, crossing his arm slightly.

"You're teaching me to fight, and while that's all well and good, I have yet to give you somthing as well." Luna staed.

"You owe me nothing." Thranduil stated, truly astonished.

Luna opened her mouth to say something but was cut off by a dark haired elf appearing beside Thranduil. The two ellon conversed softly to one another before Thranduil turned to Ithilwen.

"Please excuse me," The elf-prince said, "My ada wishes to speak with me. Perhaps we could continue tomorrow?" Thranduil suggested as he strapped his bow to his back. Luna smiled.

"Sounds delightful." Luna replied kindly.

Thranduil nodded and after exchanging farewells, left to find King Oropher. Luna left soon after the prince had, with the intent of finding some gift in exchange for her training. Luna bit her lip, she didn't know much about elves. House elves, yes. But elves of Middle Earth, no, she had no clue. So it would appear that her first task would be finding an elf Luna could trust enough to answer her questions. As if summoned by an invisible force, none other than Rovain, the elleth that had caught Neville's eye, came walking down the corridor.

"Oh! It's so good that I've found you," Luna said as she stepped up beside the elleth, "I'm in need of your help."

The dark haired elleth seemed startled, but she smiled and greeted Luna despite her shock. "Melda heri, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Rovain implored kindly. Luna smiled at her.

"Well, as you may know, Prince Thranduil is teaching me self defense. I, of course, am greatful, but I've come to realize that I have nothing to give in return... I was just wondering, what is it that elves most enjoy?" Luna found no shame in admitting that she didn't know everything about elves. Rovain smiled kindly.

"Starlight. It is the brightest of all lights and it is an eternal light." Rovain stated.

"Thank you!" Luna exclaimed before she turned and ran off to her chambers.

Once she was in her chambers Luna began gathering things from her extended satchel. She didn't gather anything extravagant, she merely gathered the pebbles and rocks and things she had collected over her travels from Lothlorien to the Greenwoods. After she had gathered the objects and put them in a separate pouch-for there were far to many for Luna to carry on her own- Luna made her way over to the small table in the middle of her solar.

Luna carefully spread the pebbles and rocks out before turning her attention to the small wine goblet that sat on the table. Luna felt a little uncomfortable transfiguring the beautifully made object, maybe she shouldn't. Luna bit her lip and looked around, there was nothing else she could use, and so, she swallowed hard and pointed her wand at the goblet. Luna mumbled the incantation under her breath and watched as the goblet began to change. It expanded and morphed and shifted until a small chest stood in the goblets place. Luna smiled and turned to the collection of rocks and pebbles.

It wasn't a necessarily difficult task, transfiguring ordinary objects into jewelry or precious gems... It just took a large amount of concentration and precision. However, it would be difficult infusing a light equal to that of a star into the jewel. Luna didn't shy away from the task, she had always been good with charms and she loved a challenge.

Rock by rock Luna whispered the incantations. The pebbles took on different shapes and sizes, they melded together with silver chains made of pure magic, and they shined. Oh, how they glimmered. Like a thousand tiny stars stuffed inside a perfectly cut diamond, dud they glow. Luna found herself entranced by the jewels. She reached out, taking up a small jewel between her thumb and forefinger. And she smiled.

"They are lovely."

Luna jumped, her heart pounding in her ears, she whipped around with her wand raised, to face te intruder. Upon seeing just who had appeared in her chambers, Luna dropped her arm. "Neville! What are you doing here?" Luna questioned.

The boy smiled bashfully and motioned toward Rovain who stood at the door with a small smile. "I needed to find you... Mad eye is looking for you. Something came up with the Death Eaters." Neville stated. Luna nodded and followed Neville from the room.

The two Istari raced down the corridors in search of Mad eye. Whatever the wizard wanted, it had to have been important. They found him in the throne room, him and the two royals. Luna and Neville made their way over to the three.

"What happened?" Neville asked as he stepped closer to the Order member.

Mad eye glowered. "The Carrow boy is dead. Alecto is not pleased."

"I'd imagine not." Neville mumbled.

"What are we going to do?" Luna asked, turning to Thranduil he said, "We can't let you wonder around without a form of protection... And your soldiers aren't equipped to defend themselves against Death Eaters, let alone yourself."

The room grew silent. The gravity of the situation settling around them. Mad eye smirked, it was a look that neither Oropher nor Thranduil particularly liked. Mad eye turned to Neville and Luna.

"Lovegood, you'll be the princeling's shadow for the day. Longbottum and I are currently working on somethings that can't be put aside." Mad eye stated before he all but dragged Neville from the room.

Luna turned to King Oropher. "Good morning." she greeted. The elven-king blinked, it took a moment longer then usual for him to smile at her.

"Mae g'ovannen." Oropher greeted kindly.

Luna blinked. "I've interrupted a great thought, haven't I?" Luna questioned, and when Oropher made to protest she continued, "I see it growing smaller in your eyes... Come along Thranduil, your Ada doesn't wish to speak with us at the moment." With that said the grey eyed elleth took Thranduil's and and apparated away.


	15. Chapter 15

Thranduil wasn't particularily fond of Ithilwen's form of magical travel, it made his stomach churn, and the worl spin. No, he was definitely not fond of her magical travel. Thranduil turned to Ithilwen, fully intented on telling the elleth to never do that again, but when he met the dancing silvery eyes of Ithilwen, and complaint he had disappeared.

"Are you alright?" Ithilwen implored.

Thranduil nodded. "Yes, I was merely caught off guard." The prince stated.

The elleth smiled. "So tell me, Hîr vuin, have you ever flown before?"

Thranduil blinked. "It is not possible." Thranduil stated.

Her smile was radiant. Truly, utterly, ethereally radiant. Ithilwen chuckled sweetly, then she took hold of Thranduil's hand and began leading him through the forest. Thranduil glanced around suspiciously, not wanting to risk an ambush by Death Eaters. Ithilwen assured himnthat Mad Eye gad reinforced the barriers, making them indestructable, this didn't really soothe the prince's worry, so he tightened his hand around Ithilwen's. ?The two elves made their way into the darker parts of the Green Woods. The parts where secretive creatures dwelled.

"Since you have never known the pleasure of flying I want to show you something." Ithilwen stated softly as she stepped into a clearing. Thranduil followed her, his body tense.

The creatures in the clearing were... Strange, somewhat grim in appearance. They resembled horses with skeletal bodies, reptilian features, and wide, leathery wings that resembled a bat. Thranduil eyed the black skinned creatures with suspicion. His hand flitting to his sword.

"They won't hurt you." Ithilwen stated as she stepped around her companion and walked over to a Thresal.

"What... Are they?" Thranduil implored.

"They're called Thresals... They're quite gentle, really... People tend to avoid them because they're a bit... Different." She stated as she ran a slender hand down the creatures neck.

"I have lived in this forest for many years, how is it I have never seen these... Thresals, before." Thranduil questioned.

Ithilwen turned to look at Thranduil with sad silver eyes. "They can only be seen by those who have seen death and have accepted it." She said while reaching into the small pouch at her waist and pulled out an apple.

"Who did you see die?" Thranduil implored.

"The woman who raised me died when I was nine, and then... There was the war... Many died." Ithilwen stated.

There was a brief silence before Ithilwen took Thranduil's hand and placed it on the creatures neck. The thresal's neck flexed under the prince's hand. Thranduil was slightly taken aback by the gentle nature of the creature.

Thranduil turned to Ithilwen only to find her crouched beside a small Thresal, barely out of its first year. There was a slab of raw meat in her hand that Ithilwen was pulling chunks out of before feeding it to the Thresal. Thranduil watched her, he didn't even try to conceal the fond smile that crept over his features as he watched her scratchy beneath the creatures jaw. The prince couldn't take his eyes off of Ithilwen's form.

"Would you like to rude her? I'll admit, I had hoped to show you a hippogriff, but I much prefer Thresals." Ithilwen stated.

"Why is that?" Thranduil questioned.

"Thresals are... Gentler. Now would you like to ride her? She'll fly if you'd like." Luna said with a smile.

Thranduil hesitated, not really wanting to, but seeing the gleam of Ithilwen's eyes softened his resolve. So he nodded. The smile he was rewarded with was by far the most beautiful thing the prince had ever seen. Thranduil watched as Ithilwen hoisted herself up onto the back of the Thresal, then she looked at Thanduil and scooted forward to give him room.

"You'll have to ride behind me. It might be dangerous for you if you don't." She said with a smile.

With only a moment's hesitation Thranduil hoisted himself up behing Ithilwen, it was only when she took his arms and wrapped then around her waist that Thranduil became aware of how close they were to one another.

Of course, he wasn't able to dwell on the fact, for within seconds the Thresal shot up into the sky. Thranduil tightened his hold on Ithilwen, determined that if they fell then he would be able to break her fall and possibly prevent her death.

"Isn't this exciting!" Ithilwen exclaimed.

Thranduil laughed, yes, flying really was exciting! Thrilling even. Thranduil smiled at Ithilwen, even if she couldn't see him do so. Thranduil felt Ithilwen laugh in his arms. She told him to look down, and he did so without a second thought. Beneath them, the Green Woods stood out like an emerald in a chest of jade. The moment was ruined, however, by the sudden flashes of color coming from Dol Guldor.

"We should return." Thranduil stated.

Ithilwen nodded and quickly directed the Thresal back the way they had come. Once they had returned to the clearing Ithilwen offered the Thresal some meat then she and Thranduil turned and began the not so long track back to the palace.

Thranduil kept one hand on his sword and the other on Ithilwen's arm for the duration of their journey back to the palace. Once they were safe within the halls hewn from living stone Luna smiled.

"So, there's only an hour until dinner, I say we play exploding snaps. The Bovarian rules, version though. That's my favorite!"

Thranduil nodded. "I would enjoy that." Thranduil said. Ithilwen smiled, took his hand, then she began leading Thranduil towards her chambers.

Thranduil hesitantly stepped into the elleth's solar. It was surprisingly bare, aside from the oddly small chest on the table, there was barely anything of her's in the room. Ithilwen smiled waved her wand at the box- which promptly delivered itself to Thranduil's room along with a small thank you card- and summoned her Exploding Snap deck.

"Ok, so the Bavarian Rule version of exploding snap is a bit complex for beginners. Since you don't have a wand, you'll have to play with the one I conviscated from a Death Eater... Don't worry, I've charmed it so that it won't react badly with you." Ithilwen said as she handed Thranduil the crooked black wand. Then she began setting up the game.

An hour or so later when Neville came to get his friend, he opened to door to reveal two laughing elves. "There! Quick!" Ithilwen exclaimed while pointing at two matching cards. Thranduil quickly pointed his- borrowed- wand at the cards, only he was two late. The cards exploded in a shower of smoke and magical sparks.

The two elves laughed, their eyes glistening with tears. Neville smiled, he hadn't seen his friend laugh like that in... A long time. Hesitantly, he rapped his knuckles on the open door. The two elves turned to look at him.

"Neville! Play Exploding Snap with us!" Luna commanded happily. Neville leaned against the door and smiled.

"You know I prefer Wizard's Chest, besides, dinner's almost ready." Neville stated.

Thranduil excused himself and made his way back to his chambers. The door opened and Thranduil absently pushed it open while he diverted his attention to the Exploding Snap cards in his hand. He placed the cards on the table beside the chest and began removing his tunic.

Suddenly, he stopped, turned, and locked eyes on the small chest that sat in the table in his solar. The prince looked around, searching for anything threatening, when he found nothing, Thranduil hesitantly took up the small, nicely folded parchment, and opened it. The note was written in pretty lettering and when Thranduil saw Ithilwen's name scrawled across the bottom, he smiled. Her name was spelled upside down and was a bit crooked, but it made the prince smile.

With a smile Thranduil flipped open the lid of the chest. His heart began to beat a little faster in his chest once his eyes landed on the jewels in the chest. But it wasn't the amount of jewels that took the prince's breath away... It was the light that the jewels gave off. He picked up a single jewel and smiled. He quickly changed into traditional elven robes and made his way toward the dinning hall... After securing the safety of the jewels Ithilwen gave him, of course.


	16. Chapter 16

In the two short weeks that followed tensions began to run high. Sauron had claimed seven of the nine mortal kings and warped them into Nazgul, the two kings that remained, refused to believe that Sauron would do such a thing.

Middle Earth was on the brink of war. The three Istari of the Green Woods trained the elven soldiers as best they could, but there is no true way for a nonmagical being to fully protect themselves from magical Istari. So, the three did what they could. But, despite everything, despite the worry and the fear the Elven-Prince and the Lady of Lorien- Luna insisted on Lady because she really wasn't a princess and Neville tended to tease her... All in good fun- found whatever relationship they had growing stronger.

It did not surprise many of the residential elves of the Green Wood to find Prince Thranduil escorting the Lady Ithilwen from one place to another. Luna had even adopted the name Ithilwen, telling both Mad Eye and Neville that it confused many when she introduced herself by one name only to be called another... But reall, she did it for Thranduil. Even if she never admitted that she rather enjoyed the way each syllable rolled off of the prince's tongue. Even if she didn't admit it, Ithilwen did a lot of things for Thranduil, because... Well, maybe because she loved him.

At first, it had frightened her. The intensity of her emotional dedication to the prince had had the silver eyed elleth calling upon her mother. Ithilwen had spoken to her mother in worried tones, because, she'd never before felt that way for anyone and it frightened her. The age difference didn't help much either. When she had told the Galadriel this, the Lady of Light smiled.

"Oh, my sweet. You are not much younger then he." The older elleth had said.

"But I'm elfling... He is not." Luna had replied while running her hand worriedly through her hair.

"Nor are you. Ithilwen, you may have been seventeen in the world you grew up in but... Time here is much different from time there. Here, despite the youthfulness of your appearance, you have long since reached your adult years." Galadriel had said.

Ithilwen blinked. "What? No, even Haldir called me an elfling... Several times."

"He believed you were. You look much younger then you are, and when you said you were ten-and-seven it gave reason to believe you were but an elfling."

This, of purse, had not helped the poor girl. If anything it made her head hurt even more. She had taken a seat beide her mother and rested her head on the elder woman's shoulder. "I'm afraid." Ithilwen stated.

"Of what? Love? Happiness?"

"The intensity of my feelings... His feelings for me... What if... What if I only feel this way because..." Ihilwen hadn't been able to finish her sentence.

It wasn't that she was scared of Thranduil's feelings, it was just... Eru, they were at war. War wasn't the kind of place one fell in love. It just... Wasn't. So maybe she was overreacting. Maybe Ithilwen was blowing this all out of proportion. Though, with Ithilwen being a witch and an elf her emotions were much stronger then they would normally be... To a frightening extent.

"You would not feel this way if it were not meant to be." Galadriel stated.

Ithilwen had nodded and a half hour later she watched as Galadriel disappeared. Ithilwen had paced her room for the better portion of two hours, just, trying to figure out what she was going to do. She knew about the entire soulmate-like love each elf had, and she new that once one fell in love then they would never love another in a romantic light. But... Wasn't two weeks to early to fall in love? Could her feelings possibly be that of an unrealistic teenage crush. A teenage girl's fantasy? Ithilwen hoped not.

She had avoided Thranduil for a while, when she saw him coming she would smile kindly and wave before turning and going in the opposite direction. It had worked for awhile, but after a few days the prince managed to corner her. Ithilwen had been in the hospice, providing her magic in an attempt to heal the severely injured or ill. Sometimes she would sit next to those dying and she would ease their pain. Many in the hospice were attacked by Death Eaters or Sauron's allies. It was frightening to know that the only safe place in the Green Woods was the palace.

"May we speak?"

Ithilwen had jumped, not because she was scared, but because now that he was behind her, there was no more running. No way for her to avoid him. She turned slowly and smiled shyly... Ok, maybe even a bit guiltily.

"Of course... Rovain, I'll be right back." Ithilwen said before she and Thranduil drifted from the hospice.

Once they were out in the corridor Ithilwen ran her hand through her hair, and a sigh of pure exhaustion escaped her lips. Thranduil watched her with tender eyes and took her hand. "You're avoiding me." Thranduil stated as he escorted Ithilwen down the corridor, away from the hospice and any crowded areas. The words spoken between the two were for no one else's ears but their own.

"I haven't been avoiding." Ithilwen said, ok, so, yeah, she had been avoiding the prince but for good reason! Ithilwen worried about doing something that would ruin their friendship. Even if he never loved her back, Ithilwen could bear that, but... Loosing his friendship? No, no that was out of the question.

Thranduil gave her a chilling look. "You have." He said with a bit more force.

"... Ok, yes, I was avoiding you. But only because I..." The elleth trailed off.

"Yes?" Thranduil pushed, just a bit to eagerly.

"Because I... Look, it's not because I don't enjoy your company. I'm just busy at the moment... In the hospice." Eru, she couldn't stop! Ithilwen feared that by the time the two were done talking, Ithilwen's foot would be so far into her mouth that she could play football with her tonsils. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I see." Thranduil breathed.

"Oh, I've angered you. I'm sory, I never meant too." Ithilwen cringed.

Thranduil stopped, his bright cobalt eyes pinning Ithilwen in place, making her heart race in her throat. He blinked, his girlish eyelashes casting shadows over his cheek bones. Slowly, he took Ithilwen's hand, enjoying the soft tingle that spread over his fingers when he did so.

The elleth hadn't angered him, she had merely worried him. At first it had been understandable, they were at war and both he and she had responsibilities, but as the days passed and the more she slipped out of a room when he entered, the quicker he realized. Ithilwen was avoiding him.

It hadn't been a pleasant feeling. Actually, it was the worst feeling Thranduil had ever gotten. Worse, even, then the dragon fire. Thranduil had, of course, started to think of reasons as to why Ithilwen was avoiding him, and why it bothered him so much. Then it hit him. He, Thranduil, son of Oropher, Prince of the great Green Woods, was in love with Lady Ithilwen of Lorien.

"I'm not angry." Thranduil said, in hopes of easing his love's guilt.

"You might not think so, but you are. I can see it in the depth of your eyes... Come, we will spend the day together, my way of apologizing to you." Ithilwen appeased.

Ithilwen tightened her fingers around Thranduil's, she squeezed gently as she led the Ellon through the palace. The two found themselves in the inner gardens of the palace. The gardens were lovely, and Ithilwen absolutely adored them. Thranduil smiled.

"My naneth had a talent for making things grow. These were her personal gardens. Many of the flowers and plants are from the far east, and require a very specific type of care." Thranduil stated as he watched Ithilwen's reaction.

The elleth reached out and brushed her fingers across the silken petals of a hydrangea. Turning to smile at the prince Ithilwen said, "They're lovely. I even recognize a few of the flowers from my home land."

"Then I am glad I have shown you this place, melanin." Thranduil replied.

Ithilwen froze, her silvery eyes wide with shock. Had he just? Yes, it would pear he had. The elleth turned very slowly in an attempt to steady her racing heart. Best not get her hopes up, lest it be a trick of the mind.

Thranduil watched her process his words, as if she were surprised by them. Of course she would be surprised by them, normally Thranduil didn't go around spewing such words from his lips. This... She, was the exception. Although, Thranduil was confident enough with himself that he hadn't stopped to think about he dreaded 'what if'.

"What did you call me?" Ithilwen choked out, a desperate attempt to not throw her own feeling back into his face. Thranduil stepped closer to Ithilwen until they were chest to chest, and he took her hands in his before placing soft kisses on her knuckles. He looked into her eyes, and in them he saw his future. In them, Thranduil found love.

Ithilwen swallowed hard. There was something about being so close to the prince that had Ithilwen's mouth running dry and her heart skipping beats and giant metal butterflies flapping around in her stomach. She took a deep breath, but maybe she shouldn't have because she could smell Thranduil and the scent was unlike anything she had ever smelt before. Spice and pine and something manly, it wasn't exactly a musk, but it had Ithilwen leaning closer and her eyes drifting closed. This was the point of no return, either she pull away now and ruin their friendship, or she allow Thranduil to continue. Either way, there was no going back. And so, Ithilwen swallowed hand, her eyes locked with Thranduil's, as he rested his forehead against her own.

"You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you... I have examined my own heart, and there you were. Never, I fear, to be removed. You have bewitched me body and soul, and I never wish to be parted from you. My heart is, and always will be, yours."

Then he was kissing her. Thranduil placed one hand on Ithilwen's waist and the other came up to cradle her head, his fingers buried in her flaxen hair. Ithilwen's own hands came to rest on both of Thrandruil's shoulders, as if she had meant to push him away... Or perhaps to pull him closer.

Thranduil found himself pulling Ithilwen closer as he maneuvered her back against a small, flowery tree. He couldn't seem to get enough of the elleth, she tasted like sunshine in summer, the sweet wine his father had brought to his city, she tasted like honey, and the drink she was fond of, the one from her home land.

Ithilwen pulled away first. Her hands coming up to, very gently, hold the elven-primce's face in her hands. "I love you," She breathed out, "If I loved you any less then maybe I could speak of my love and devotion to you in more depth, but I can't... I love you in such a way that words can and will never be able to describe."

Thranduil smiled. It was a smile that spoke of his happiness, and as she watched him, Ithilwen began to curse her fear. Finding it silly that she had almost created a rift between them because she had been afraid of her own feelings.

"Gi melin." Thranduil whispered.

Ithilwen smiled. "And, I love you."


	17. Chapter 17

"No, no, no. All wrong. Do it again." Mad Eye barked.

Bothe Neville and Ithilwen groaned as they moved back to their original positions. Mad Eye had been training the two for the past three hours in an attempt to make them Auror material. Ithilwen had held up better then her male friend due to her elvish resilience, but she was beginning to feel the ache in her muscles and in her hand which was currently clenched between her fingers.

"Can we have a break? Please?" Neville gasped out. Mad Eye glared at him.

"Do you Death Eaters are going to give you a break?" It was a snide question.

The two friends groaned in unison and slowly raise their wands. The large dueling platform they've set up is different from the other platform, this one has a special death eater projector... That shot real spells at a person... And they weren't nice spells.

Ithilwen understood why they were doing the exercise. As young Istari, if it came to war, then Neville and Ithilwen would be partners, brothers-at-arms, I've-got-your-back-so-you-sure-as-hell-better-have-mine kind of relationship. This exercise was designed to teach the two friends to work together in such a way that two became one, so that the two different magical cores could correspond well enough that they would not only protect one person, but two, or three, or however many more people the two magical beings needed to protect.

Neville rubbed his eyes just as the first Death Eater projection appeared. The spell came quickly, the two Istari sprang into action. Back-to-back they stood, wands raised, spells racing through their minds, and words dancing on tongues. They were both equally aware of the massive amounts of attention they were drawing from the training elven warriors. Not that either of the two cared, they were too busy avoiding nasty hexes and the occasional magical paint ball- a trick Mad Eye had picked up from the Weasley twins, he used the red paints to represent blood... Morbid, right?

"Loon, down!" Neville barked and Ithilwen obeyed. With a soft grunt the elleth spun on her heel and bent backwards at the waist, creating an impressive arch. Neville fired a spell, the colorful light flew a mere inch above Ithilwen's nose before colliding with the Death Eater's chest' causing the projection to crumble into blue mist.

"Thanks!" Ithilwen chirped in old English before firing more spells.

The longer the two trained, the better they got. Soon their movements lost the jerky awkwardness that was caused whenever one bumped or nudged the other. After a while they began to move as if they were the twins. Jerky became fluid, tense became natural, even their breathing became similar in pace and sound.

"You aren't moving fast enough! Lovegood! You're about to die! Neville you need to get at Death Eater unless you want to die! Damn it, ain't you listening?" Mad Eye yowled.

Just as the angry, loud words slipped past his lips Thranduil and Oropher stepped up beside the older Istari. The two royals watched as Ithilwen and Neville trained, watched as more and more projections- a new word that neither could pronounce because of what Mad Eye called 'old English'- appeared on the platform.

Soon, the two became overwhelmed. The projections never seemed to stop coming and the hexes and curses never slowed. Both of the young Istari were drained, their energy quickly dwindling away as they fought off their imaginary attackers.

"Behind you!" Neville growled out upon seeing the small group of death eater projections approaching his friend.

Ithilwen tried to fight them all off, but the small group of three soon became seven and her energy had dwindled to a very small percentage. In the end it was just to overwhelming. One of the projections used a spell that increased the sounds in the room, causing the elleth's ears to throb and her head to pound. Knuckles turned white as Ithilwen attempted to remain focused. She was doing pretty well on her own until one of the projections got behind her that things went from ok-to-horendous.

Thrnaduil's eyes widened as he watched- helplessly- as the projection caught his love by surprise. He watched- horrified- as Ithilwen's body collided with a wall, in a very painful looking manor. Thranduil was the first to appear beside Ithilwen as she pushed herself up.

"Are you alright?" Thranduil questioned.

Ithiwlen nodded but once her eyes landed on her pinky, she turned whiter then parchment. The thin finger on her hand was bend at a disgusting angle just at the knuckle. Ithilwen felt her stomach roll and she quickly pressed her hand to her mouth in an attempt to stop the bile that rose into her mouth.

"I think I'm going to be sick." She muttered, slipping into Old English so that only Mad Eye and Neville understood her.

Mad Eye was there in a second, gently taking her hand and pulling out his wand. "This is going to hurt." He stated just before pointing his wand at Ithilwen and whispering Episkey.

"Are you alright? God, I'm so sorry! I shoulda seen that coming." Neville gushed, his face turning red with worry and no small amount of embarrassment.

Thranduil glared at the eldest wizard as he helped his soon-to-be-bride up. He carefully observed her. Taking in the pale parlor of her skin and the tired gleam in her eyes. Yes, he official did not like the one called Mad Eye. Thranduil smiled as he placed a kiss on his beloved's hand. She blushed. He smiled even wider then before.

"Take a break. We'll start this up again tomorrow morning." Mad Eye said just before he and Oropher walked off.

For a moment there was silence, then Ithilwen smiled. "I think you and I should clean up, Neville. Before the feast." yes, the feast announcing the fact that Ithilwen and Thranduil intended to pledge themselves to one another.

Neville nodded. "Right. I'd best be going." he said before he turned and walked away from the two.

"So, what brought you?" Ithilwen implored as she carefully twirled her large mass of curls up and out of her face, pinning it into place with her wand. Once she was done Ithilwen took Thranduil's offered arm.

"Is that how you were taught at your place of learning?" Thranduil implored.

"Oh, no. My education was much more pleasant." Ithilwen chuckled.

Thranduil smiled. He looked at her for a moment and gently tugged on the wayward strand of silver gold that hung beside her ear. Thranduil smiled brilliantly when his actions elicited a soft blush. Ithilwen glanced at him from the corner of her silvery eyes. So maybe she should have seen it coming, not that the attention was a bad thing, it's just... Well, she's never been the reciever of male attention, so this is all a bit strange. Ithilwen just wished she have Ginny, the Weasley girl defiantly would have known what to do.

Once they two made it to Ithilwen's chambers, the female Istari smiled kindly, thanked Thranduil for his company, and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek before slipping into her rooms. Ithilwen sighed tiredly, only sparing a glance around to make sure she was alone before she began to remove her clothing. Peeling away the slightly sweaty tunic and breeches and dropping them to the floor. It didn't take long for Ithilwen to strip bare and enter her personal bathroom. She spared a moment to grab her toiletries before she entered the bathroom and bolted the door behind her.

The Istari carefully stepped into the heated water. Knowing that she didn't have much time before someone came looking for her, Ithilwen quickly began to wash her hair and body using the vanilla scented soap she had bought in Diagon alley- all natural of course- when she and Ginny had been getting school supplies.

A half hour later, Ithilwen found herself sitting before her vanity, brushing through her hair and pinning a simple silver chair around her neck. A knock on her door alerted her to the being waiting in the corridor. "Come in!" Ithilwen called out.

When the friendly face of Rovain appeared in her mirror, Ithilwen smiled radiantly and turned to meet the elleth's eyes. Rovain bowed her head and informed Ithilwen that dinner would be starting soon. Together, the two elves made their way to dinner, arm in arm. Ithilwen pretended not to notice the way Rovain directed the conversation towards Neville. If she didn't already know, Ithilwen would have guessed that Rovain was smitten.

That night they dinned on imported goods and drank imported wines, they laughed and sang and danced, and for one blissful moment everything was perfect. There were no Death Eaters, there was no shadow of war, it was just peaceful. When the coming union of the elven Prince and the female Istari was announced elves cheered and made merry.

Ithilwen laughed and conversed with Neville and Mad Eye, she was introduced to high ranking officials, and she danced with Thranduil, who couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from the silvery elleth beside him. Unfortunately, dark things have a way of showing their faces just when the good things near their peak.

It started with a crack, well, no, it was more of a ripping sound. Like someone had taken rough fabric and had torn it down the middle. It was horrible. Ithilwen swallowed hard, her mouth running dry, because she knew. She knew. Mad Eye and Neville sprang into action just as she did. Wands were pulled from hidden holsters and held aloft in the air.

As if they had been shoved open by an invisible force, the doors to the dinning hall shot open which caused them to hit the walls behind them. Sharp intakes of breath could be heard as three hooded figures entered the room. Ithilwen recognized them instantly. Dolohov, Fenrir, and Alecto had vitally paid the royal palace a visit.

Oropher stepped forward. "I would welcome you to my home," He commented dryly, "But you are no friend of mine. So I will only say this once. What are you doing here? Leave at once!"

Alecto snickered. "We ain't here for you pretty boy." She cackled.

Fenrir turned his gaze toward Ithilwen. "We came for her." He drawled out with his gravel like voice. Ithilwen shivered. Thranduil stepped closer to his beloved.

"Over my dead body." Neville snarled, like a older brother protecting a younger sister from the dark thing in the closet. The Death Eater smirked.

"That can easily be arranged." Dolohov commented slyly before snapping his fingers.

Ithilwen watched in horror as three all, hooded men stepped into the room. The Nazgul... Or, some of them at least. Ithilwen stumbled, slightly surprised as people began pulling her back, away from the dark hearted beings. She let them do so without a fuss because her head was throbbing due to the dark magic in the room, and she felt like the walls were closing in and the floor pitching. It was unpleasant.

"We have instructions not to kill any of you... Not yet. Our Lord wants to watch you suffer first. And so, we will be taking the girl." Dolohov stated before flicking his wand.

It happened quickly. One second the ground was solid and the next people were flying through the air like trapezes artists. Ithilwen yelped when her body slammed into the ground, her head connecting with such a solid thunk that she began to bleed. Blood matted in her hair and the world blurred in and out. Yeah, she more then likely had a concussion.

No one had been prepared. No one could have suspected. Even, Thranduil, with his cooled happiness and skill with warfare could not have seen it. The Death Eaters had struck fast and they struck first. It was the abduction of Ithilwen, Lady of Light, and the first female Istari, that had prompted the elves of the Great Green Woods into war.


	18. Chapter 18

Ithilwen woke in a room that smelt of dead flowers and inscents. The walls were covered of black stone and the bed was draped with black silks and satins. Ithilwen choked on the darkness in the room, it was smothering, as if it was a living thing that wished to kill her.

Slowly, the blonde stood from the bed, her body ached and she barely made it within an inch of the door before she was pushed back by an invisible force. She frowned. If the Death Eaters hadn't killed or injured her then they wanted her for something. Ithilwen just couldn't think of what.

The sound of a door opening of rusted hinges alerted Ithilwen to her visitor. Gathering what little courage she had, Ithilwen turned and focused her silver eyes on the other door in the room, the one she had not dared to go near. In the doorway there stood a shadowy figure, Ithilwen couldn't make out his features but the air around him was thick with darkness and malice and hate. Ithilwen slowly stepped away from him, her back pushing against the barrier. Swallowing the lump in her throat, Ithilwen took a deep breath.

"Come now," The man purred, his voice deep and rumbling, like thunder during a storm, "I have not harmed you yet, have I? I have even gone as far as to construct a barrier to keep the darkness at bay... so that you will be as comfortable as possible."

"Then I should thank you..." Ithilwen swallowed.

The man stepped out of the shadows and stopped just before the barrier. Ithilwen studied him with growing horror. This man, this Dark Lord, was nothing like Voldemort. Where Voldemort had been grotesque and disfigured, this man was beautiful. Truly beautiful. His hair was long and when the light of the tallow candles that burned in the room was caught in it the long strands burned and glowed like copper, his skin was fair and smooth, his jaw was strong, his eyes burned like a red sun, and he was much taller then herself... And upon his finger, there was a single golden band. The man bowed, his full lips curling into a wicked smirk.

"So courteous you are and yet you do not know who I am. Allow me to introduce myself, my fair Ithilwen of Lorien. My name is Sauron, Lord of Mordor." The man said.

Ithiwlen swallowed, her courage forgotten, fear crept into her gut. Cold and icy and sharp. It hurt, badly, and Ithilwen knew she would not last long before the darkness began to kill her... What a horrible way to die. She was ripped from her thoughts as Sauron stepped past the barrier. His armor dissipated from his body like ink in a river, leaving behind finely woven garments.

With every step he took toward her, Ithilwen's heart skipped a beat and her breathing grew heavy. Sauron only stopped when he was almost chest to chest with Ithilwen. He smirked, his hand snaking out to wrap a silken curl around his long finger. The Dark Lord had to admit, the elleth was stunning, an opal amongst diamonds... Images filled his head, images that would most certainly frighten the young woman had she been able to read his mind. Sauron smiled, and to Ithilwen, that was much scarier then his smirk.

"Aren't you going to ask why I've brought you here?" Sauron asked, suddenly pulling away from the girl. He made his was over to the small table in the room and lured himself a some wine. When Ithilwen shook her head the man chuckled and continued, "Good... I find that refreshing."

"Where is my wand?" Ithilwen asked.

"Why would you want it?" Sauron replied slowly, darkly.

"I will not long survive the darkness here... I need my wand." Ithilwen stated hesitantly.

"A pity I do not have it then. I must admit, the werewolf and the Carrow woman are not the most competent of my followers." Sauron chuckled.

"A pity for you then." Ithilwen remarked dryly.

The man smirked, his lip pulling back to reveal his pearly white teeth. Ithilwen found herself growing even more uneasy, and suddenly she wished others were in the room, because the center of this man's attention was not where Ithilwen wished to be.

"They did bring you to me, my lirimaer."

Ithilwen's silvery eyes narrowed. He had no right to call her that. Calling her 'Beautiful one' was bad enough but for him to insinuate that she was his. It was outrageous. It didn't help that the dark lord had meant every word. As if he assumed that calling her something so intimately endearing would make her drop her small clothes. Ithilwen pressed her paling lips together, a sign of noth her mounting anger and the overwhelming urge to vomit.

"I am not yours to say such a thing to. You are not my betrothed nor are you a friend. You are my enemie." Oh if Neville could see her now, he'd more then likely pinch her and shoot her warning looks from his place across the room... But he wasn't there, and Ithilwen was offended by this man's arrogance.

Sauron chuckled... Cackled, really. "Oh, I am very much aware of your relationship with the Princeling... Which, I find to be rather bothersome." Sauron commented dryly.

"Everything about this situation is troublesome." Ithilwen mumbled under her breath. Sauron ignored her and continued.

"You see," He proceeds, "When I first heard of you arrival in Lothlorien, I was sure it was a lie. For you had been gone for many, many years. But then, I came upon a small group of Dark Istari, and they told me of the land they hailed from. So of course, I assumed that if they were here then you must be as well...Thus, the urge to possess you once again resurfaced."

"Once again? I do not believe we have met before this night." Ithilwen reiterates, she did not like the way he said those words. Sauron smirks devilishly.

"No I suppose you wouldn't remember. You were very young when we first met." Sauron points out and the elleth finds her breath growing solid in her lungs.

"I find it hard to believe I would forget a face such as yours." It is not a compliment.

Sauron places himself in a chair carved of black steel. "You were very young. Barely into your first moon cycle, when I first laid my eyes upon you." Sauron recalls, "I had come under the guise of Annatar... Your mother was suspicious of me, of course, and so she refused to be parted from you while I was in her city.

"When I first laid my eyes upon you, I will admit, I had been shocked, I had never before seen a chile, let alone a babe, with such power. I knew the moment that I laid eyes on you that I had to have you. Possess you in every way possible. Of course, your mother has a rather annoying gift for seeing into the hearts of those around her, she looked into my heart and knew of my intentions for you. When I sent one of my servants to steal you from your bed, you were gone. Your mother had sent you someplace I could not find you." Sauron recalls, his eyes glossing with distant memories.

The elleth suddenly felt... Violated. Her fingers itched for her wand, anything to defend herself with because Ithilwen knew there was no way she could fend Sauron off if he decided to attack her. Of course, she was aware that her emotions were still tied to her magic and so if things got to out of control, she would at least have some form of protection. Sauron studied her for a moments, his molten eyes ablaze and harsh.

"Of course, when I sent the wolf after you the first time you had already reached the Green Woods. I had once again been too late. Only this time I was able to take out my rage on that little princeling you have decided to pledge yourself to... Even now I see it in your eyes." Sauron commented darkly, as if he were seriously hurt. Ithilwen did not speak and so he filled the silence. "Oh, well, soon your little princeling will be dead and you will no longer remember him. You will be to far gone, and in your place will be a creature much more... Suitable, to my tastes."

Ithilwen started when he appeared behind her. His long hand wrapped around her hips, pulling her closer to his body. Ithilwen struggled, why wouldn't she struggle? There was a man- whom she had no feels aside from contempt for- touching her, violating her.

Sauron pulled away with a sharp intake of breath. His hand curled around 's throat and squeezed. His eyes were cold and dark and Ithilwen was beginning to see dark blotches in her vision.

"You will never defy me again. Do you understand? Soon your prince of the Green Woods will be dead and you will be mine and mine alone." Once he said it Sauron shoved the elleth away and disappeared.

Ithilwen pushed herself to her hand and knees, her other hand holding her throat. She swallowed the sob that rose in her mouth and bit into her hand as tears began to leak from her eyes. Eru, she prayed someone would come. Preferably Mad Eye of Neville because they knew magic and they probably had her wand... But a much, much larger part wanted Thranduil more then she could admit in a place like this.

It was hours before her tears ran dry, hours before she moved to stand beside the bed, which she promptly sank down upon. Ithilwen rubbed her shaking hands together and prayed that she was rescued before the darkness killed her. Sauron obviously didn't realize that just because she was powerful magically she was still an elf... A being of light that could easily be weakened and killed by the mere dark hatred of this place.

Slowly, Ithilwen raised her hand. She didn't have much energy, but she could spare enough for this one task. Ithilwen knew a few wandless spells, trival things, nothing serious... But, she knew how to summon a patronus, so maybe, just maybe, she could apply that to her windless abilities.

Ithilwen shut her eyes, trying to think of something happy. A memory came to mind. It was her and Thranduil... They were playing exploding snaps. The memory wasn't powerful enough, so she moved on to the next memory. This one was of the first time they kissed, the time they declared their love for each other in whispered words. It brought a smile to Ithilwen's pale lips.

"Expecto Patronum." Ithilwen whispered. From her hands a small hare erupted, only, much to Ithilwen's surprise, it shifted into a much larger creature with antlers. An elven elk soon stood before her.

"You need to find Mad Eye Moody or Neville Longbottum... Tell them, I am alive. Tell them they need to hurry... Please, I don't have long. The darkness of this place, it is weakening me. I would be most obliged if Mad Eye would send a patronus as well as my wand... I've used to much magic as is... Please, hurry." Ithilwen choked out.

The elk hesitated, but it bowed it's antlered head none the less and took off to finish its given commaned. Ithilwen watched it go, her heart fluttered in her chest and she swayed on her feet, but she watched it. Only turning away when it disappeared over the horizon.

Black spots danced across Ithilwen's vision, the room pitched, and the elleth found herself falling to the floor. Her head hit the stone, and a small trickle of blood began to drip from her pert nose. She didn't have the energy to lift herself up. She allowed the dark ess of sleep to take her, and Ithilwen though of Thranduil just before the darkness closed in.

* * *

Ok, so I do not believe, by any means, that Sauron has legitimate feelings for Luna/Ithilwen. I think he has an obsession with the amount of power she possesses, because let's be honest, she's not only the daughter of Galadriel, but she's also the first female Istari in Middle Earth. She's packing some power under her belt, even if she doesn't realize it... Yet. So Sauron's feelings are more like Joffery Baratheon/Lannister's feelings for Sansa. He's like the kid who just got a puppy but the puppy doesn't choose him as it's person, the puppy chooses someone else, and this pisses him off, so the kid tries to force the puppy to like him. Get what I'm saying? It's a political/power play, the more power he has behind him, he's that much bigger of a threat to the rest of Middle Earth.


	19. Chapter 19

In the months that passed Ithilwen found herself growing weaker. Moody and Neville had not been able to send her wand but the old wizard did send a patronus and Neville sent potions to help with the illness from the darkness that filled Mordor. Of course, those things only did so much. Ithilwen still felt the darkness trying to strangle the light from her being. It was painful.

Sauron had visited her often. He said things that set the hairs on the back of her neck to stand on edge, he looked at her in a way that made Ithilwen wish she was wearing more clothing then she was. He made her feel exposed. Of course, he never touched her, Ithilern never let him get close enough to touch her. Dolohov was the only Death Eater that Ithilwen actually felt somewhat safe with. Not completely, and she certainly didn't trust him, but when he brought her meals he would place them on the table along with a book then he would leave. No words were spoken. No glances shared. He came in and he left.

Today, however, was different, when Dolohov entered the room he seemed... Agitated. His dark eyes darted around frantically and when Ithilwen shifted back he whipped around and glared at her. "Shut up!" he snarled angrily. Ithilwen nodded, her hand wrapping around the butter knife hidden in her skirts. Dolohov yelled for some one and Ithilwen was horrified to see Alecto Carrow waltz into the room. She and Dolohov shared whispered words and then the dark haired male left the room... With Alecto's wand. Which meant he had orders that no one was to hurt her. That gave Ithilwen some comfort, at least.

The blow was delivered so quickly that it managed to escape Ithilwen's notice. The fist that connected with Ithilwen's cheek was covered in rings and grime, it caused the blonde to stumble back, her hand pressed against her cheek, eyes wide with shock and no small amount of pain. Ithilwen's back hit the stone wall behind her, leaving no where to go as the angry witch advanced on her.

"Unfortunately I can't kill you. The master won't be pleased to find your pretty little face all bruised and bloodied... So, I guess I'll just focus my rage elsewhere."

Ithwilen yelled when Alecto's fist drove into her stomach, driving the wind from the elleth's lungs, and sending her to her hands and knees. Ithilwen gasped for breath, it was all she could do to not empty the contents of her stomach onto the stone floor.

Alecto reached out, her crooked fingers tangling themselves in silver blonde hair. "Does it hurt?" Alecto growled as she yanked Ithilwen's head back, bringing tears of pain to the elleth's already watery eyes. "Good. I'm glad it hurts. May e now you'll finally begin to understand the pain I went through as I watched my baby brother die... But no... How could you understand. You have lost no one..." Alecto hissed, her voice thick with her angry pain, and her eyes filled with angry tears.

The Death Eater tossed Ithilwen away, watching with sick glee as her small body hit the wall. Ithilwen shakily wiped the blood from her lip, tears burning their way down her pale cheeks. Although she hated herself for crying in front of Alecto, she couldn't find it in herself to hate the woman. All Ithilwen felt was pity.

"I am sorry for your loss." Ithilwen bit out, the knife she had hidden in the folds of her dress burning her palm.

"No you ain't." Alecto growled.

Her foot connected with Ithilwen's side. Again and again and again. Until the elleth was sure her ribs had been broken and her flesh colored the color of the purple gladiolus that Ophelia Lovegood had planted before all of the windows of the Lovegood house, the color of the sickly, dying grass in autumn, the color of broken blood vessels and battered skin. Ithilwen curled into a ball, one arm protecting her ribs, the other carefully pulling the knife out of the folds of her dress.

It all happened so quickly. One moment Alecto was delivering a sharp kick to Ithilwen's waist, the next, she was laying on the floor, blood spilling from her chest and pooling around her body. Ithilwen weakly crawled up to her, bottom lip quivering and eyes blinking away tears. Ithilwen had never intentionally killed anyone before, and she was determined to offer the Death Eater some comfort... Even if she didn't deserve it.

"It might not help any," Ithilwen whispered as she took the bony hand of the Death Eater, "But at least you'll see your brother again... I am sorry... I never meant... I'm sorry he died." It was a broken whisper of truth... Barely even a whisper.

Maybe it helped Alecto Carrow as her life drained from her body. Maybe it didn't. Ithilwen would never know as she watched the light leave Alecto's eyes. With hiccuping sobs Ithilwen shot back, pressing the backs of her bloody, bloody hands to her mouth. Her stomach churned, her body shot across the room, vomit flavored her mouth, and when she wiped the back of her mouth off with her sleeve there was a puddle of watery vomit of the stone floor.

A moment later, a half hysterical Ithilwen ripped the bloody knife out of Alecto's still chest and slipped out of the room- with the use of Alecto's default wand. It wasn't until she was out in the corridor that she finally understood why Dolohov had left Ithilwen in the care of Alecto.

The sounds of war rang in Ithilwen's ears. Battle cries beat off of the stone walls, echoing down the corridor, from the window Ithilwen could see armies. Great armies of Men and Elves stationed before the gates of Mordor. Hope swelled in her breast, briefly over shadowing the pain she was feeling. If there was an army outside then Neville and Mad Eye would be there too. Ithilwen sobbed with relief and began to stumble down the corridor.

Although the journey was painful, and although she couldn't walk without leaning against the wall, Ithilwen somehow managed to make her way down the twisting stairs of the castle and to a room that highly resembled a weaponry. Ithilwen quickly grabbed a dagger, then, tucking it away into the belt around her waist, Ithilwen dropped the bloody knife and ran... Or at least, hurriedly hobbled down the corridor. It hurt, but she managed to keep going.

It's funny isn't it? The way one's mind works in a crisis. War was waging on before the gates of Mordor, her life was being sucked out of her by the darkness, and all Ithilwen could think about was when she saw Thranduil she was going to hug him... Of course other things crossed her mind but they made her blush scarlet and steady her breathing.

"Hello pretty."

Ithilwen screamed, loud and shrill, as Fenrir Greyback appeared before her. Eyes swollen, face beaten, blood running down his face in torrents of crimson. He reached out, his fingers wrapping around her throat before they squeezed. Ithilwen clawed at his hand, she thrust the dagger at him but he easily batted it away in her weakened state of being. Black spots danced before her vision and all she could do was choke out violent gasps.

"Hey! Let her go you mangy, flee bitten bum waffle!"

Ithilwen turned her head just in time to see a cure fly into the werewolf's wrist, severing his hand from his body and allowing Ithilwen to fall to the floor. Ithilwen choked, violent hacking coughs shook her frame. Two hands wrapped around her shoulders and carefully pulled her to her feet.

"Get her out of here Longbottum!" Alastair snarled as he directed his wand at the snarling creature.

"N-Nev?" Ithilwen's voice was a hoarse whisper.

"Come one. We have a safe spot set up, I assume you aren't strong enough for long distance apperation, so Moody and I set up an area for injured warriors. It's completely safe."Neville reassured as he wrapped his arms around his friend's side, ellicitating a cry of pain. Neville quickly readjusted his arm before disappearing.

"You can't protect her forever. Dolohov left, under orders. He'll finish what we've started. One day when you least expect it... She will be his, and the Dark Lord will turn this land to dust and ruin. We may have been brought to their world, but they will die in ours." The werewolf snarled just before a stream of electric, poison apple green hit him in the shoulder. Thusly, another Death Eater was killed.

* * *

The sudden appearance of Ithilwen and Neville shocked many of the medics working in the enchanted medical tent, but upon seeing Ithilwen's battered state, many elleth healers appeared to lead the girl off.

"Who did this to you?" Neville asked, he had only been allowed to follow after Ithilwen had wrapped her hand around his wrist and refused to let go, leaving the healers with no other option.

"Alecto... She has... A bit of a... Grudge." Ithilwen struggled to get out.

Neville nodded and directed his attention to the table where he had set some healing potions and salves out. After gathering a few of the more potent ones, the boy returned to his friend. Thankfully the healers had been sensible and had managed to dress her in a loose fitting tunic and loose breaches. this would allow Neville to help without revealing anything private.

"Lift your shirt." Neville instructed.

With great difficulty and much help from the healers, Ithilwen managed to pull the tunic up so that the hem his her bindings but nothing more. There was a collective intake of breath as the group took in the large discoloration forming across Ithilwen's side, stomach, and waist. Neville reached out, his fingers not even brushing the bruised skin.

"We'll need bandages." was all he said before Neville removed the top from a jar of mint green paste. Wound cleaning paste. Ithilwen ground her teeth against the slight sting as the paste cleaned up her split lip and scrapped hands.

"Drink this... It'll heal your ribs." Neville encouraged and Ithilwen swallowed sit down with a faint scowl. It hurt. The broken ribs snapped and mended back together so quickly that it left the elleth panting and exhausted.

"Nev... You got anything that'll make me sleep? I haven't had a good nights rest in a long time." Ithilwen mumbled. Neville smiled, an ear splitting grin that ripped his face apart.

"Yeah. We'll finish fixing you up after you're asleep." Neville stated, his hands drifting to a purple liquid on the side table beside the bed they had stationed Ithilwen in.

Thankfully, Ithilwen gathered the uncorked vial into her blood caked hand, and took careful sips from it until the purple liquid was gone and her eyelids were drooping over her eyes. To heavy to be kept open, Ithilwen shut her eyes and carefully stretched out on the bed. But in her dreams, Ithilwen was plagued with dreams of blood. Amicus' blood. Alecto's blood. Blood. Blood. Blood. And in the end Ithilwen woke with a choked gasp and a silent sob.


	20. Chapter 20

Perhaps it was the begging screams that made Ithilwen pick up her wand and some potions in an attempt to help the injured. Perhaps it was the constant dreams that plagued her mind. Either way, Ithilwen threw herself into the task of healing thoughs who needed healing.

She had yet to see Thranduil or Oropher... Which was good. Neville had assured her that both had been well the last time he had seen them. Ithilwen wasn't sure she was comforted by this or not but it was better then seeing either in a hospice bed.

"Lady Ithilwen?" A timid voice emitted from behind her.

Ithilwen turned, wiping off the blood on her hands on a white cloth. She had just finished stitching up a man who had refused magical treatment. A stupid, stupid man to be sure. Ithilwen smiled politely at the elleth standing before her.

"Yes?"

"Lord Neville demands your assistance."

Ithilwen nodded and quickly made her way to where Neville had stationed himself amongst the injured men who would possibly die. If he was not only asking for her help but demanding it as well... Then something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. When she finally reached her friend, Ithilwen found a man fighting against the healers, screaming, raving, shrieking about war and death.

"He refuses to be treated... If he keeps thrashing and fighting like this, he will rip his stitches and re-open his wounds... I thought maybe you could help." Neville whispered before rushing off.

Ithilwen made her way over to the restrained man. When she was close enough, the man stopped, his eyes wide... So very, very wide and so fearful that Ithilwen felt sorry for him. This man did not deserve this. This man did not deserve to spend years of his life under the curse of PSTD. Ithilwen sat beside his bed and crossed her ankles.

"Are you quite finished?" She implored softly.

The man swallowed heavily and gave her a shaky nod. "Yes..." He stated.

"Good. Lie down so that I might fix your stitches." Ithilwen commanded as she summoned a needle and thread... As well as several potions.

The man lowered himself to the bed. Ithilwen worked quickly, she fixed the stitches the man had ripped, she smeared a wound cleaning paste on the wound. She was half way through her fourth stitch when a sudden pulse of dark energy rocked the tent. The fires that had kept the tent alit and warm went out. The man cried out, his body thrashed, and Ithilwen pressed her hand onto the man's chest. Gently pushing him down.

"Everything's alright." She promised.

"What the the bloody hell is going on?" Neville asked.

"Sauron had been defeated..." Ithilwen trailed off, her eyes narrowed and she looked up at the sky.

Neville pursed his lips. Not entirely convinced. Ithilwen wasn't either. She had met Sauron, had spent hours in the same room with him. She knew that he was not going to be so easily defeated. It frightened her, quite frankly.

Slowly, the elleth stepped away from Neville. She silently made her way through the med tent. Ignoring the moans of patients and the screams as infected limbs were removed. After all, there weren't many elven healers in this tent, they were all stationed closer to the battlefield, and many patients removed magical treatments. So infected limbs were removed from those who were unable to be convinced that magical healing was better then losing a leg. Ithilwen shook her head as she stepped out into the oddly chilled air.

She stood there for a while. Silver eyes gazing out at Mordor's great castle. Shivering, Ithilwen wrapped herbhands around herself, a tight embrace against the chill in the air. The wind blew harder, forcing Ithilewn to re-enter the tent.

"I need your help." Neville said from the left of the silver haired elleth.

Ithileen nodded once before following the dark haired boy deeper into the magically enlarged tent. More violent patients, Ithilwen sighed to herself once she saw the thrashing patient. And boy, was this one violent. The man stood on shaking legs, every time someone got close enough he would thrash harder and swing his sword, he was also using another patient as a human shield.

"He's been like this for about ten minutes. I can use a body bind because it'll hit the other patient and I don't want to send the man into some sort of arrest. I think that if you or I can get behind him then maybe we can do something to calm him down." Neville said tiredly.

"No problem..." Ithilwen removed her wand from its sheath and twirled it between her fingers.

The two fanned out. Neville stayed in eyesight seeing as to how him being male would pose a bigger threat, and Ithilwen crept around behind the man and raised her wand. It happened quickly. The man reared back, turned on his heal, grabbed Ithilwn and shoved her away just as she made a move toward him.

With a pained yelp Ithilwn crashed into a table, her face hit the leg of the table hard enough go bring spots to Ithilwen's vision. She pushed herself up and pressed the tip of her fingers against the tender flesh around her eye and cheek area. Not broken.

"Jesus, Luna are you ok?" Neville asked as he helped his old friend to her feet.

"I'm... Fine." Ithilwen said after a moment.

Neville took her chin between her thumb and forefinger and turned Ithilwen's head to the side so that he could examine the damage. Neville let out a breath. Nothing had been broken, she would have a nice shiner in an hour or so but nothing had been broken.

"You'll have a pretty bad shiner in an hour or so." Neville said while reaching for the bruise healing salve in his pocket. Ithilwen stopped him.

"No. There are others who need it more. Help them first and then find me." Ithilwen gently pushed the hand holding her chin away.

Neville nodded. "Alright... Oh and before I forget. Thranduil made it. He's alive. Moody got ahold of me about ten minutes ago." Neville stated.

"And Oropher." Ithilwen demanded.

Neville grew silent. So very silent. "How?" Ithilwen implored.

"The Battle of Dagorlad. He fought valiantly. He died... He died a hero." Neville said, saddened by the ellon's passing.

Ithilwen swallowed. "Thank you for telling me." Ithilwen then turned and left.

Once she was out of sight Ithilwen apparated outside. She was accustomed with death. It was a natural part of life, it was just... It hurt. Death always hurt. Maybe that's why people hated it so much. It wasn't that their loved ones had moved on, it was the pain they felt in the wake of said passing. Death left people feeling hollow... It left them with only painful memories. Looking to the sky, Ithilwen pursed her lips. Her breaths left her with a slight shake. She would not cry. She would not cry. She cried. Tears spilled out over her cheeks and she wiped them away with her sleeve. Soon the tears subsided and she allowed herself one more deep breath before entering the tent.

The healers were packing up and moving patients who couldn't move into wagons. There weren't many, and those who were still on the mend were healed anough to help shoulder some of the weight of moving bodies. Ithilwen quickly pulled a healer off to the side.

"What's going on?" She asked the human woman, who smiled kindly.

"We're going home MiLady." The woman beamed. Then she was moving away.

Ithilwen quickly moves toward her station. She gathered potions and salves quickly and placed them into the charmed medical bag, then she gathered up her bandages and other assorted items. Once she was finished packing Ithilwen went to find Neville. She found him directing some of the healthier patients on how to properly care for their wounded on their journey home.

"Neville, will you be goining them?" Ithilwen implored once the patients had walked off.

"No... I want to see Rhovain. I want to go home." Neville said, wiping his hands off on a white cloth.

Ithilwen smiled. "Rhovain, huh? I'm happy for you Neville. I really am." She said kindly.

Neville smiled and reached into his pocket. What he pulled out was something Ithilwen had only seen once. It was Alice Longbottom's wedding ring. A beautiful ring with five diamonds embedded into a silver band. Ithilwen smiled as Neville held it up.

"I was hoping to gove this to her... I know elvish weddings are different from wizard weddings but... I still want her to have it... I think it would look better on her then it would in my pocket." Neville said bashfully.

Ithilwen pressed her hand against Neville's bicep. "She'll love it." The elleth whispered sweetly. It was true, Rhovain was smitten with Neville, and he loved her dearly.

The two gathered the rest of their things and waited until the humans had disappeared from Ithilwen's elven eyesight. Once they were gone, Ithilwen and Neville devided the small amount of elven healers between them and quickly briefed them on Apparation. Then with two sharp cracks the group disapeared.

They reapeared just outside of the gates to Mirkwood. The small group silently slipped past the gates and into the warmth of the palace. It was a somber affair, their welcome back, not many elves remained in yhe great city. There were enough to hold the palace until the king returned and several woman but still... The palace was oddly empty. It wasn't until Neville and Ithilwen were walking toward their chambers for some much needed rest that Rhovain appeared.

The dark haired elleth froze upon seeing Neville, and the wizard smiled upon seeing her. Then the two were moving toward each other. Ithilwen watched as the two embraced, Rhovain let out a shaking breath and burried her face in Neville's neck. Ithilwen left then and continued on her way.

Once she was safely in her room, Ithilwrn stripped iut of her blood stained hospice dress and stepped into her bathroom. She cleaned herself up quiclly, watching the water turn pink with blood and sweat and pain. Once she was clean Ithilwen waisted no time in drying herself off and dressing into a simple blue dress. Looking in the mirror, Ithilwen scowled. Her eye and cheekbone were discolored and slightly swollen. With a sigh, Ithilwen made her way into her bed chamber and began to search for some bruise healing paste. Once she found it, the elleth went back into her bathroom and smeared the sweet smelling past overher eye and cheekbone. Waiting for the discoloration and swelling to go down before she wiped the paste off.

The sound of someone pounding on her door caused Ithilwen to jump, but once her heart had slowed back into its normal thrum Ithilwen went to the door. Ithilwen pulled the door open slowly, almost painfully. It was Thranduil standing before her door, clothed in blood stained breaches and a somewhat clean tunic. The two staired at eachother for a moment before Thranduil stepped into the solar, kicking the door shut behind him.

"You're alive." Thranduil said slowly. Ithilwen barely nodded before Thranduil pulled her into a tight embrace.

They sunk to their knees. Thranduil burried his face in Ithilwen's neck, shaky breaths rattling his shoulders. He was fighting to keep it together. He had almost lost her, he had lost his father, he had lost hundreds of soldiers, and he had clung to the hope of seeing his love again. Being with Ithilwen again. And now... Now he was holding her in his arms and all those emotions, all that pain came crashing back to him. Thranduil cried and Ithileen cried with him. Her silvery eyes glassy with tears as she gazed up at the ceiling. The tears burned her cheeks as they traveled down her face and onto the fabric of Thranduil's tunic. As accustomed to death as she was, Ithilwen still felt the pain.

"The woman that raised me always used to tell me that the things we lose have a way of coming back to us in the end... Sometimes in ways we least expect." Ithilwen murmured in Theanduil's ear, offering as much comfort as she could.

It might not have offered much comfort but it seemed to offer enough because Thranduil pulled away and pressed his lips to Ithilwen's forehead.

"I love you." Thranduil whispered against her skin, his eyes closed.

"And I love you." Ithilwen replied softly.


	21. Chapter 21

Oropher's funeral had been a somber affair. Everyone in the Great Green Woods mourned for the great Elven King. They wept and they prayed to Eru. Even the trees seemed to shrink away. Thranduil had handled the funeral preparations by himself- a task Ithilwen had silently helped him with. Oropher was to be burried beside his deceased wife. Ithilwen had visited the late queen's grave and had frowned.

There were dried roses on the crypt. Ithilwen frowned as she gazed at the dark petals. Thranduil rarely visited his mother's grave... Not because he never wanted too, but because visiting his mother brought back memories of her death... And apparently- from what Ithilwen had gathered- it had not been peaceful. So, that left Oropher to visit and pay his respects. Ithilwen bit her lip and with slowly movements she raised her wand.

A little wreath of Johnny jump ups and baby's breath formed at the head of the crypt, just above the elven words of parting carved into the stone. The wreath wouldn't last long and soon they would fade away, but Ithilwen planned on visiting again and leaving a new wreath on both the King and the Queen's graves. As she watched the sun light dance over the flowers Ithilwen smiled sadly.

After a while Ithilwen stood and made her way back to the palace where the servants were preparing for tonights mourning feast. There would be a fee days to mourn those lost in the war and then Thranduil would be crowned king... Ithilwen gnawed on her bottom lip. When Thranduil was crowned king, they would be expected to pledge themselves to one another almost immediately. Ithilwen swallowed. Was she ready to be a queen? Was she ready to be a queen? Thranduil and Neville seemed to think she was. Neville especially. The dark haired boy had made a list of reasons as to why Ithilwen would make an amazing queen and he had even gone as far as to present it to said elleth.

Ithilwen smiled at the memory. Neville had beem sweet to try and make Ithilwen feel confident in herself, and to an extent she was, until Ithilwen woke one night in a cold sweat. There were certain things however, that made Ithilwen smile if she thought about them. Like, a life, a loving husband... A baby. That, that particular thought never failed to make Ithilwen beam. If she closed her eyes Ithilwen could almost see her baby. Ithilwen was sure Ginny would have rolled her eyes for thinking of something that hadn't even happened yet, but... Hadn't Ginny done the same thing when thinking of her future.

The blonde elleth rubbed her arm and continued on to her room. Ithilwen needed to get dressed for the coronation. Pity filled Ithilwen's stomach. Hadn't Thranduil gone through enough already? Had he even had the proper amount of time to morn the death of his Ada? Ithilwen bit her lip as she pulled out her gown.

It was a lovely pink color. Like a November sky when the sun begins to rise. It was modestly cut and the hem of the long sleeves brushed Ithilwen's knees. The dress had lovely golden roses had been embroidered into the bodice. There were even matching slippers and jewels and Ithilwen suspected this was the first of many unneeded dresses. Ithilwen did appreciate that Thranduil had gone out of his way to commission the gown. It was quite lovely.

Standing before her mirror, Ithilwen expertly pulled her hair up and back, using a series of coiled braids and twists to keep her hair draped over one shoulder, then she carefully slid the silver circlet over her curls, allowing the twinkling accessory to rest on her head. When she decided she looked presentable, Ithilwen stood, smoothed out her gown, then she left her chambers.

She found Neville pacing before her door. He was garbed in traditional elven ceremonial clothing and- to be honest- he looked rather dashing. Neville had long since lost his heavier build and chubby cheeks, instead taking on the physique of a man who had seen to much war for his life time. The greens and browns in his clothing brought out the earthy colors of his eyes and the darkness of his hair, he appeared fairer in skin and the jacket showed off his lean frame- something his normally frumpy sweater never did.

"You look handsom." Ithilwen whispered as she placed her hand over Neville's shoulder. The older boy smiled.

"As do you... Look at us Luna... All grown up, getting married..." Neville's voice cracked a bit.

Ithilwen smiled sadly. "Our families would have been so proud of us Neville." Ithilwen whispered in Old English.

It hurt to think of her life in England. The life she had unwittingly given up. And to be honest... Ithilwen had been looking forward to her life after the second wizard war, and as happy as she was to have met her real family as well as a soulmate- Ithilwen was entirely convinced that's what she and Thranduil were- in the world she belonged in... But she missed Hermione and Ginny and Ron and Harry and the Twins. She missed the quiditch pitch and Hogwarts, she missed chocolate frogs and Bertie every flavor beans. She missed the man who raised her and she missed the wizard and muggle bands Ginny and Hermione had introduced.

Neville had more to miss though. Here in this world he had no blood relatives. His grandma must have thought him dead, his parents wouldn't even know he was gone, and though Neville had Ithilwen and Mad Eye and Rovain... It wasn't the same as having your blood with you. Especially when in only a few months time Neville and Rovain would be married and have little children of their own. Ithilwen used her thumb to stroke her friend's cheeks.

"Yeah... I know." Neville gave a watery chuckle before stepping away and offering his arm to Ithilwen.

The two made their way through the palace and out into the forest, where Thranduil was to be crowned king of the Great Green Woods under the eternal light of the stars. Ithilwen and Neville found themselves following the congregation of woodland elves deeper in the forest but not so deep. That the palace was out of sight. Ithilwen found comfort in this. The clearing where Thranduil was to be crowned was lit with magical floating balls of blue fire, courtesy of Mad Eye.

Ithilwen had never been to an elven coronation before but it was rather like the coronation the Queen of England was given... Though, much more elegant and simpler. Thranduil stood before his advisers and an ageless Ellon whom Ithilwen had never met but assumed to be the man who was charged with crowing Thranduil.

An hour passed before a crown of carved out of golden oak to look like a lovely set of antlers, and lovely emerald leaves had been woven throughout the crown. The Ellon placed the crown upon Thranduil's head, and bowed. Thranduil stood from his kneeling position. The rose-gold colored cloak he wore rustled as he stood and as he stood his people fell into bows and curtsies befitting their station. Ithilwen fell into a curtsy as well, though hers weren't nearly as deep. She was quite proud of Thranduil... But also quite sad for him as well.

The coronation ended and the elves began to celebrate. Ithilwen had never been to a party like the ones the elves were throwing. Even the Yule Ball hadn't been this exciting. The blonde elleth watched through wide silvery eyes as the elves danced and sang and laghed. She's never seen this sode of ghem before, this lively almost childish joy they seemed to emit.

"Luna! Here, I brought you a drink." Neville exclaimed as he dropped down beside his friend, two goblets in hand. Rovain stood beside him, smiling kindly.

"Thank you." Ithilwen said as she took the offered drink.

The three sat on one of the man logs set up around the clearing, watching as people danced and drank and sang. Ithilwen was especially pleased when Rovain managed to convince Neville to dance with her despite his best protests. Occasionally he would accidentaly tap her toes with his own, for which he would blush furiously and stutter out apologies. The elleth chuckled softly, her eyes flickering around the clearing in search of Thranduil. He eas no where to be found.

Frowning, Ithileen stood and made her way in the direct she'd seen Thranduil go after his coronation. She hoped he was ok. Eru, she knew it had been to early to make him a king. To soon after his father's death. Speaking of... Ithilwen quickly gatheted her skirts above her ankles and made her way toward Olopher's grave. Knowing Thranduil probably wanted to mourn in peace, Ithilwen took her time. Walking slowly until she made it to her destination. In the faint lighting Ithilwen could just make out the golden sheen of Thranduil's hair. Hesitatingly, Ithilwen stepped closer and closer on silent feet until she was a foot away from the upset ellon. She could see the slight shake of his shoulders, hear the soft uneving breaths leaving his lips.

"How long have you been there?" Thranduil questioned once he realized someone was behind him. Knowing it was too late to slip back into his normal emotionless facade- whoever it was had already seen him cry- Thranduil stared at his father's crypt.

"Not long..." Thranduil's shoulders slumped. Ithilwen, it was just Ithilwrn. "I can go... If you want to be alone."

Thranduil looked at her from over his shoulder. A vision of beauty and grace she was. Her soft face and gentle eyes lit with moonlight. He shook his head. "Stay." He commanded before turning back to his father's grave.

Ithilwen stepped up beside him, her small hand coming to a rest on his shoulder. Thranduil took a deep breath and closed his eyes. When he opened them the crypt was lined with little yellow flowers. They were rather simple, but Thranduil has a feeling that his father might have liked them just the same.

"Primrose. My mum... The woman who raised me, she used to plant these in the cemetery near where we lived." Ithilwrn explained sadly.

"Thank you." Thranduil whispered.

His voice cracked with unshed tears and the side of his face rippled. Hands clenched at his side and eyes filled with bitter tears, Thranduil barely noticed when the enchantment covering his scars faded away. It wasn't until the cold air bit inyo the still tender flesh that Thranduil even bothered to attempt hiding it. His attempts stopped, however, when Itholwen reached up and placed her hand on his scarred cheek, soothing it with her magic.

She didn't say anything. She just stood there, staring at Thranduil with her sad silver eyes. Ithilwen stepped closer, her arms carefully wrapping around his waist. Thranduil quickly followed suit. His arms curled around her shoulders and back and his head dipped so his forehead could rest against her feathery soft hair. They stood like that for several moments until Ithilwen pulled away and gave Thranduil a sad, yet oddly comforting smile.

"I should go and make sure Alastair hasn't decided to hex anyone." She murmured as she stepped away.

Thranduil nodded once and turned back to his father's grave, not wanting to watch as she left. Left him to his thoughts and his fears. Thranduil swallowed hard. She'd still be there when he left, she wouldn't disapear. She'd still be there. She would.

"Thranduil... You might be a king now, but, even kings are allowed to mourn for their loved ones. Just... Don't think you have to change who you are just because you have a new title... Alright?"

Thranduil turned to reply but Ithilwen had already left, like a shadow in a dark room. There but gone in an instant. Thranduil closed his eyes and swallowed, then with one last look at his father and mother's crypts the young king turned and made his way after Ithilwen.


	22. Chapter 22

Days turned into weeks and Thranduil was required to take on more as king of his people. He spent less time with Ithilwen but she understood well enough to not feel bitter or suspicious of his intentions towards her honor, but this wasn't what had the silver haired elleth worried. Thranduil's advisers were insisting that he and Ithilwen wed as quickly as possible. They claimed that Thranduil would need a good queen if he wished to be a good king. Of course this had angered the ellon, even if he had agreed that Ithilwen would make a wonderful queen- and he did- he still felt mildly offened at the insinuation that he would only be an adequate ruler if he didn't marry her.

Neville and Rovain had married. It had been a lovely wedding and Ithilwen was happy for the two. They looked so very happy. Especially Neville, who beamed whenever his new wife smiled and when she looked away he would always smile fondly and subtly curl a finger in her hair if his hands were unoccupied. Ithilwen smiled absently as the seamstresses worked on her wedding dress, it was a lovely gown made of white silk, the sleeves were so long that they trailed on the ground and there was a slight parting in the center of the sleeves allowing a little shoulder to show, the bodice was fitted and around her waist was a simple white sash, but the most intriguing part was the golden embroidery that curled around Ithilwen's bust and down towards her stomach. The elven women had done such a lovely job and Ithilwen felt bad for almost telling them she could have simply transfigured her own gown. That, of course, would have caused such a commotion that Ithilwen had quickly dismissed the idea.

"Does it please you, Melda heri?" The older of the elleth implored softly as she began so smooth out the silk around Ithilwen's legs.

"Oh, it's absolutely beautiful. I can't thank you enough." The soon-to-be-queen breathed out, awed by the beauty of the gown.

Slowly Ithilwen gathered up her now finished skirts and twirled, causing the white silk to billow and twist like smoke in the air. Biting her lip, the silver eyes elleth pressed her finger tips to her lips and smiled. Moments later the seamstresses were carefully easing Ithilwen out of her wedding gown, claiming they would bring it straight to Ithilwen's chambers with anything else she might need after some last minute alterations. Ithilwen nodded and watched them go before she quickly pulled on a pair of breeches, her leather boots, and a dark tunic. Then with one last look in her mirror, the elleth quickly slid out of her chambers and into the long corridor.

Servants smiled and greeted her as she passed, and Ithilwen greeted them just as kindly in return. The palace of the Great Green Woods was filled with activity, mostly servants and officials preparing for the wedding that was to take place within the week, but some of the activity had to do with the elven children that seemed adamant to follow Ithiwen wherever she went. Not that she minded any, children weren't a rarity amongst elves but the time period between the birth of children in elven families was at least ten years and many waited even longer to have more children, and so, all children of any race were smiled upon by the elves. A sharp giggle interrupted her thoughts and when Ithilwen glanced over her shoulder she saw the wide, expectant eyes of a small group of children watching her. Without a second thought Ithilwen grabbed her wand from it's place tucked behind her ear and whispered a few words under her breath and with a wave of her wand. The children roared with gleeful cheers as a large elven elk trotted towards them. The children reached out, their fingers sweeping through the silvery-blue mist that made up the elk. Ithilwen watched from a distance as the elk allowed the children to touch it, and even though there was nothing to really touch, the joy on the children's faces told Ithilwen that her patronus was doing as Ithilwen had intended.

"My Lady."

Ithilwen turned, a soft smile playing over her lips. "Yes?" She spoke kindly to the guard standing behind her.

"King Thranduil requests your presence." The ellon stated before turning and walking away.

Ithilwen followed him, matching his quick pace step for step. They said very little and whatever was said was either very formal or very boring, it wasn't until they came to the doors leading to the training room that the guar bid Ithilwen good day and left. She waited until he had left before silently pushing the door open. Thranduil didn't seem to notice her, not at first anyway, and Ithilwen didn't mind all that much, because watching the blonde haired king move the way he was, well it was both thrilling and terrifying. Thranduil's back was to the door and in his hands were two swords, Ithilwen went to speak when Thranduil shot toward his targets, blades spinning, body twisting around obstacles. Yes, very thrilling.

"Remind me to stay on your good side." Ithilwen chuckled.

Thranduil turned, his eyebrow pinched with confusion. "What does my side have anything to do with it?" Thranduil implored much to Ithilwen's amusement.

"It doesn't, it's just a term used in my old home land. It basically means that I should never be on the receiving end of your anger." She replied with a dazzling smile that made Thranduil smile as well.

"I would never hurt you, besides, you're horrible with a bow... Perhaps a sword is more your style." Thranduil said as he held out a sword.

Slowly, the elleth took the blade and grasped it firmly in her slender hand. "I'll be honest with you... If I ever find myself in a battle of any sorts I plan on using magic, sparring is one thing, and I don't mind learnignt o use a weapon because one day I might need it. But to be completely honest, I would feel more comfortable with my wand." She commented softly.

"Maybe, but if you were ever separated from your wand? Then what?" Thranduil questioned as he gazed at his soon-to-be-wife. She smirked.

"Then I suppose I'm in trouble, aren't I?"

"Which is why I plan on overseeing your training personally... But first, your hair. It's going to get in the way." Thranduil stated and before Ithilwen could even reach up to touch the silvery hair, Thranduil had stepped up behind her and began to weave the thick mass of curls into a simple braid. His fingers moved nimbly, but he worked slowly and Ithilwen closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath. She's always enjoyed having her hair played with. Then it was done and Thranduil was standing before her, smirking. With a laugh, Ithilwen gently shoved his shoulder.

"Are you going to teach me to defend myself or not?" She implored softly.

"Of course, lirimaer." Thradnuil replied, suddenly very serious, but the brightness in his eyes told Ithilwen that he was anything but serious in that moment.

The training was gruesome and a little painful. Thranduil was going easy on her though, teaching her as one would teach a child, and Ithilwen thanked Eru for that... But, the way Thranduil was training her, drilling sequences into her head, well, it made Ithilwen wonder if it had something to do with Oropher's death. Not that Ithilwen was even going to mention that, not when Thranduil was smiling and laughing and happily correcting whatever mistakes she made. So maybe he was drilling her, maybe he was doing the same with his army, Ithilwen didn't mind... As long as it kept their people safe, as long as it kept Thranduil safe she would have trained until her feet bled and her body became to weak to hold itself up. Thankfully, Thranduil knew Ithilwen's limitations and stopped their training long before anything that drastic could happen.

"Would you like to join me and Neville later or do you plan on staying?" Ithilwen asked as she performed a simple cleansing spell on herself and Thranduil.

"Wouldn't I be interrupting your plans?" Thranduil implored.

"Of course not. Neville needs some things to make a potion and before we make a trip to Dale, I suggested we make sure nothing we need is currently growing in the forest. You wouldn't be interrupting anything, I assure you." Ithilwen smiled as she spoke.

"Very well then. I shall accompany you." Thranduil agreed, much to his betrothed's delight.

"Brilliant," Ithilwen chimed as she stood and took Thranduil's hand, leading him towards the door she continued, "We should go before Neville thinks we abandoned him."

Thranduil shook his head fondly and followed the shorted elf out of the room and into the corridor. Honestly, he was thrilled to be asked to join Ithilwen and her friend, he wasn't sure how much of his advisers' company he could tolerate with a smile and polite words. As if sensing his thoughts, Ithilwen squeezed his hand and quickened her pace, careful to avoid any official looking ellon or elleth on her way to where she and Neville had planned to meet.


	23. Chapter 23

The sun was warm on their faces as they travelled through the Great Green Woods. Thranduil was on edge and it was beginning to show, and so Ithilwen took his hand in hers and rubbed a soothing thumb across his knuckles. This seemed to relax his for the moment but they all knew that within minutes Thranduil would be searching the trees in search of threats. Eventually they decided a break was in order, and so the three found themselves a little clearing near a river of dark water which Thranduil kept well away from.

Ithilwen plopped down onto the grass and leaned back against her elbows. Neville dropped down a few feet away and dropped back to lay in the shades. Thranduil, however, stood uncomfortablely behind Ithilwen, unsure of whether or not he should sit down or not. It wasn't until silvery eyes met vibrant blue that the ellon slowly sunk to the ground.

"I get the feeling you don't like us." Neville joked from where he lay on the ground.

"I like you well enough." Thranduil replied, utterly confised by the dark haired boy's words.

The blonde female of the group smiled sweetly. "He was joking, love." She stated airily.

"I don't understand." Thranduil replied, his dark eyebrows drew together and his lips twitched.

Ithilwen shifted back, leaned over, and planted a kiss on Thranduil's burnt cheek. "That's alright. He's not very funny." She joked.

Neville scoffed. "I seem to remember a time when you found me quite funny." He commented with a smile.

"Our fourth year of school, perhaps." Ithilwen replied flippantly.

The elven king frowned. The two istari had such a way with eachother, an easiness that seemed oddly akin to romantic. The thought left a sinking feeling in Thranduil's stomach. Had they once courted? That certainly wasn't a pleasant thought. With a slightly frown in the male Istari's direction, Thranduil threaded his fingers through Ithilwen's betrothal ring was warm against his palm and it gave the King some assurance. This wonderfully incredible elleth had chosen him, not some dark haired Istari.

A weight on his lap started Thranduil from his thoughts. Looking down, Thranduil's eyes landed on the soft features of his future wife. He smiled and gently brushed a curl from her face and tucked it behind her ear.

"Didn't know you were such a hopeless romantic." Ithilwen mumbled softly.

A small clearing of the throat caused both elves to look over to Neville. "Yeah, sorry, but can you keep the sappy lovey stuff away from the third wheel?" There was laughter in his voice.

"Third... Wheel? I do not see a cart within the clearing."

Ithilwen laughed until her sides hurt, until she had to lean up and kiss the disgruntled look from Thranduil's lips. She ran her thumb over his cheek, kissed him once more, then she dropped to rest her head on his lap. Absently, Thranduil ran his fingers through the flaxen hair. It was silk around his fingers and he wondered if she used magic to keep it so soft. He didn't think she did.

"If you keep doing that, I'm going to fall asleep." Ithilwen mumbled tiredly, a sleepy little smile playing over her lips.

Thranduil chuckled, his fingers drifted through her hair one last time before trailing down her neck and over her shoulders. Ithilwen shivered slightly and rolled until she was able to push herself up into a sitting position. She blinked at the tall man to her right and slightly behind. He was beautiful, and not in a way that muggle actors could be called gorgeous. Thranduil crossed that thin line between gorgeous and beautiful. Everything about him spoke of masculinity and a good nature. He was easily everything a woman could want in a partner and he'd chosen her. It made Ithilwen smile.

"Um... Yes, hello. Um... Third wheel here. Starin' to feel a wee bit uncomfortable." Neville coughed.

Both elves turned to look at the dark haired boy. Ithilwen smiled gently. "You could have invited Rovain. We wouldn't have minded." She stated kindly.

"I did. She said she was busy in the hospice." Neville stated, twirling the black diamond ring on his index finger. His wedding ring.

"Ah, marriage jitters?" She implored.

"What? Of course not." Neville chuckled.

Ithilwen shrugged and turned her attention back to Thranduil. They shared a secret smile and then Ithilwen was standing up. Neville and Thranduil followed her movements. She stretched a bit, and rubbed her eyes, oddly tired. She turned to Neville.

"Do you have everything you need? Or do we need to make a trip to Dale?" She questioned.

Neville quickly rummaged through his list. "Um... Looks like a quick trip to Dale. I need Mandragora." He replied.

Ithilwen nodded and turned to Thranduil. "Are you going to be alright?" She asked.

Thranduil nodded and said, "Quite. Will you be safe in Dale? It's a trading city and very large. There have been more then one occasion where a woman has been..."

"I'll be alright. I love you." She whispered as she ran her thumb over Thranduil's cheek bone.

"And I love you. Be safe." Thranduil replied.

Ithilwen and Neville disappeared with a crack.

Dale was wonderful. So large and colorful. Ithilwen loved it, she especially loved the children who had run up to her and asked tp see her ears. The children who had blushed so happily when she's knelt before them and moved her hair away. The children who had giggled sweetly when she had tapped their noses with her index finger, causing their hair to curl and straighten around their body. It was in that moment that she realized how badly she wanted a child.

They returned hours later, carrying the herbs they needed and little trinkets of their own. Things needed to make a broomstick for Neville. Crystals and spellbooks and chalks for Ithilwen so she could perform new spells. It wasn't like she wouldn't further her education just because she couldn't attend a magical school.

With a sigh the soon-to-be-Queen situated herself on her bed with one of her new spellbooks and began her long hours of studying.


	24. Chapter 24

Ok, I know it's been a while since I last updated, and I apologize for that. Ok, so this is the wedding chapter! Woop! Woop! Quick announcement though. I know only a small amount about elven weddings/traditions and I couldn't find the vows/blessings... So there won't be anyghing specific for those. Sorry. I did try to find as much as I could but... I just wanted to warn you in case anything was left out. Oh! And kinda smut later on? If it could even be called smut. Fuck, I'm so bad at sexy time it's embarrassing. So, enjoy the chapter. one last thing; I did try to catch all spelling mistakes, lately my word check hasn't been working, like, at all, so if there are any I really do apologize.

* * *

She was garbed in rich white Silks and a rich golden mantle. Her hair was braided and coiled in a lovely arrangement atop her head. She looked like a princess, a fairy princess from one of Shakespear's plays. Ithilwen smiled.

Today was the day. Her parents had traveled all the way from Lothlorien to attend the wedding feast and the marriage celebration. It was going to be lovely, Ithilwen knew it. She'd talked to her mother, who'd told her the two rulers of Lothlorien were very happy to see their child's joy.

Thranduil had sent three sets of jewels for her to wear- if she wished to because he hadn't been sure if she had aquired some already- and they were lovely. All of them had come from the jewels she'd made for him but the design was unfamiliar to her. None she'd made originally which meant Thranduil had spent time designing something himself. The gesture touched the very deepest recesses of Ithilwen's heart.

"You look beautiful." One of the hand maids who'd been assigned to help her spoke.

"Thank you." Ithilwen blushed darkly.

The maids smiled. They were all incredibly kind, especially the youngest one- a girl named Aredhel. She was a sweet girl no older then ninety years old, her face was smooth, her skin fair, dark was her hair and light were her eyes. Ithilwen had asked that particular elleth to explain the days events to her- she already knew them for the most part but she wanted to make sure she hadn't forgotten anything.

"Well, Your mother will bestow the king with a jeweled chain, then... You will be taken to the great hall for the feast, then your mother will give her blessings in the name Manwë and Varda as witnesses to the marroage. You will then exchange your betrothal ring for your marital rings... And after," Aredhel blushed as she smoothed out her beloved lady's cloak, "Then you and the king will be married... Through, the act of bedding."

Ithilwen almost giggled. Sex was marriage in elven eyes. The bonding of two souls, the intertwining of two lives. She'd been told that much by Rovain, who'd been more then happy to sit and help Ithilwen catch up on all cultural aspects she needed to know. In times of great darkness and peril the ceremonies such as feasts were forgone, blessings were still spoken and vows still exchanged for it would be disrespectful to forgo such things, but sex was the equivalence to a muggle- and wizard- wedding. All mariages had to be consensual, if sex was preformed through force of rape then the elven victim would pass from this world and to the next. Horrible really.

"Oh, yes... I already knew that part." Ithilwen said kindly.

The maid blushed darkly, the color flushing from the tips of her elven ears to her collarbones. It was endearing in a way.

"Oh! Yes, o-of course. I apologize My Lady." Aredhel stutted out quickly.

The soon to be queen gave her a gentle pat on the shoulder. The girl blushed, a small smile revealed white teeth and a dimple. How utterly adorable she was. Ithilwen planned on making Aredhel her personal hand maid after she married Thranduil. If the girl wanted that, of course, Ithilwen didn't want to force the girl into anything.

Soon it was time to leave the bed chamber Ithilwen had been staying in. The rooms were sparsely furnished. No longer would she be staying in her own chambers, which was custom amongst most mortals, but not so amongst the elves. It surprised Ithilwen to hear that after she and Thranduil were married they'd continue to sleep together in the same room, the same bed. It wasn't an unpleasant thought! Ithilwen had just thought she'd end up a married woman sleeping in her own chambers as many in this world- and in her own- had done. It wasn't uncommon in the older pureblooded families for a husband and wife to sleep seperately. It was nice to know that wouldn't happen to her, nice to know that he'd always be there to help her through anything, whether it be a nightmare or something more physical, whenever she needed him.

The walk from her once chambers to the great hall was agonizingly slow. Each step made her heart race and her breath come in short, excited intakes. Aredhel moved beside her, the girl's light eyes flickered around every so often before landing on her future queen with a smile. It was happily returned.

If Ithilwen had any reservations about getting married, if she had any hesitations, they vanished upon entering the great hall. She briefly wondered if what she was feeling was the same as what Hermione felt when she entered the great hall at the Yule Ball. Every single person in the room was staring at her but it was the wide eyed gaze of her love that made Ithilwen blush prettily.

Everything happened far to quickly for the young Istari's liking. They said their vows she and Thranduil, when her mother gave a large opal to Thranduil Ithilwen didn't expect much what with his father being dead, she was pleasantly surprised when Mad Eye grumpily placed a large Emerald in her palm before stalking off, and finally, the two slid thee silver engagement rings from their fingers and replaced them with intricate master peices of gold. She blushed prettily when her husband kissed her forehead and took her hand in his own.

Their wedding feast lasted for hours, elves danced and drank and sang merrily. They smiled and bowed to their King and Queen. It was perfect, everything Ithilwen had ever wanted as a child growing up and dreaming of love. The two newly weds danced several times, Ithilwen had even danced with Neville once. He'd congratulated her, wished them a happy marriage, and many joyful years. It was sweet, and she almost cried.

There was no nervousness when she and Thranduil slipped out of the room. No nervous skittishness as her new husband laced his finger through her hand and led her to their bed chambers. There was nothing but a sweet tenderness, a trust that went deeper than the young witch could explain. Yes, she trusted people... She trusted a lot of people. But this... This was different. She loved Thranduil more than anything, and she was about to give something to him that would bind her life to his. Oddly enough, that didn't scare the Istari.

In fact, it thrilled her. To have someone who would always be there for her, the stability Thranduil could provide. The love and acceptance. It was almost like a dream, a lovely, unbelievable dream. Ithilwen had no objections however. It wasn't until they reached the dimly lit privacy of their bed chambers.

A fracrured second passed before Thranduil moved his hands to cup Ithilwen's cheeks. Hos calloused thumb brushed over her cheek bones and then his lips were over hers, searching, demanding, trusting. And Ithilwrn blushed darkly because while she'd been kissed before it was nothing like this. Never like this.

Her fingers tangled in his hair while his moved to her shoulders, brushing the area where skin and fabric met as if asking for permission. Ithilwen smiled against his lips and detangled her fingers from his hair so that she could remove the mantle covering her shoulders. And suddenly, he was pushing her against the wall... Or was it the door? Oh well, Ithilwen didn't care, couldn't care really because Tranduil had lifted her up, forcing her to wrap her legs around his waist.

How they ended up on the bed is a mystery to Ithilwen is a complete mystery but she doesn't mind because Thranduil's tongue is working its own magic over the flesh covering her collarbone. A gasp. A moan. Thranduil's fingers traveling down her body.

"Oh." Ithilwen moaned softly, back arching up against the man above her.

Breathing became difficult as Thranduil gently pulled her legs up around his hips. She's pretty sure she left nail marks on Thranduil's shoulders but it doesn't seem yo bother him any and she doesn't care enough to stop him.

"If I hurt you..."

"I'll tell you."

Their words were breathless and hastily said. Thranduil nods once and Ithilwen bites her lip to stiffle the sharp hiss that escapes her as Tranduil enters her. It takes a moment to adjust, but when she did, oh good god, the pleasure.

Their coupling was gentle for the most part. Neither neglected the other when it came to their pleasure, and when they were done- really truly done- Thranduil kissed her once more before wrapping his arms around her sweat covered waist to pull her closer to him. Ithilwen didn't mind a bit. In fact, she'd never felt so comfortable. Ithilwen fell asleep to feathery kisses against her temple and the brush of finger tips over her collarbone.


	25. Chapter 25

Thranduil woke to someone shifting in the bed beside him. It takes only a moment to realize who's beside him but when he does Thranduil smiles softly. Blue eyes flickered open, landed on the smaller female beside him, and softened into something tender.

Ithilwen lay beside him, curled against his side, one leg curled around his own, one are tucked under her head while the other snakes over his chest, and her warmth breath danced over Thranduil's collarbone. There was a slight discoloration on her hip and Thranduil almost felt bad... Until he remembered the little cresent moons peppering his shoulders. Neither of them had meant to harm the other and both had experienced worse wounds.

"Did I wake you?"

Her mumbled words drag Thranduil from his thoughts. His eyes lift from the bruise on his wife's hip and settle to meet her gaze. Silvery eyes dance as they watched him. Stripped him to the very bone to gaze upon his soul. Thranduil swallowed heavily. She had lovely eyes.

"No." Thranduil replied as he gently brushed a wayward curl from his wife's face.

Ithilwen mumbled tiredly as she shifted onto her elbows. Thranduil's breath caught in his throat. Last night he hadn't really been able to gaze at and appreciate his bride. She was lovely. The scars that peppered her body did nothing to diminish it.

Absently, Thranduil trailed his fingers down Ithilwen's spine. His fingers were met with smooth, unmarred flesh. There were a few light brown speckles scattered across her back, they sprinkled her spine and smeared themselves over her shoulder blades. They were faint but Thranduil could easily see them. He was half tempted to count them.

"What are you doing?"

"Admiring my wife."

And her laughter was the most amazing thing Thranduil had ever heard. The matress shifted as Ithilwen sat up. Slowly, she ran her fingers through her hair, fingers momentarily snagging of a knot before she pulled them free.

Thranduil smiled absently and tugged on a curl, watched it straighten and bounce back into it's original spiral.

"Enjoying yourself?" Ithilwen asked as her husband began to press open mouthed kissed to her spine.

"Very much so, yes." Thranduil mumbled against her skin, pressed some more kissed to the soft skin, and rubbed his thumb over the curve of her hip bone.

And she said something in that language of hers that he didn't understand, it was almost breathy, something sweet. Thandruil had no idea what she said, didn't necessarily care, all he knew was that he wanted to hear it again.

"I like it when you speak to me in that language." Thranduil murmured against her hip, causing a breathy moan to slip past his love's lips.

"_English_? You like when I speak _English_?" She asked, almost confused.

Thranduil nodded and said, "_English_."

The word was foreign on his tongue and it sounded odd, like he was never supposed to speak it, but listening to her... It sounded beautiful.

"Again." Thranduil almost begged.

Ithilwen's smirk was devious, that should have been Thranduil's warning. Slowly, Ithilwen took Thranduil's face between her hands and pressed a kiss to his lips and began to whisper.

"_Lips_."

Thranduil smiled then his smile was replaced by a moan as Ithilwen pressed a kiss to his neck. Thranduil allowed his hands to trail from his shoulders and to her pert breasts. Again, she gave him a word in her foreign tongue. Then another and another, with each word she gave Thranduil repeated it while placing tender kisses and loving touches to her body.

Later as they lay together, a tangle of limbs and silken fabric, Thranduil repeated one of the things his lovely wife had taught him.

"_I love you_." Thranduil said.

And Ithilwen smiled a soft smile and ran her hand through his hair with tender affection.

"_I love you too_."

* * *

How long's it been? Eh, guess it doesn't matter. Sorry for the short chapter. Hope you like it.


	26. Chapter 26

"Do you think you should be doing that?"

Ithilwen smiled happily at her friend and uttered a kind, "I'm pregnant not an invalid."

Neville blushed.

"That's not what I meant." He replied as he took the box his friend was carrying.

She hadn't been pregnant long. She'd only found out last month, and had only told her husband a week ago. Honestly, Neville was surprised Thranduil let her out of his sight. Not that Neville blamed the elvin king, he'd be nervous too if he found out Rovain was pregant... Especially during a time of unrest.

There were rumors that Dolohov was building an army and another saying he was trying to bring his Dark Lord to life again. Neville didn't like either but there wasn't any proof that the Death Eater was doing antyhing. However, many of the residents of the Great Green Woods were wary. So while Neville was happy that Ithilwen was pregnant, he was also worried for her. A baby, although a miracle in its own, would put her at risk.

"Thank you Neville." Ithilwen said with that wistful little smile that inspired fondness.

Neville rubbed his jaw. He adored Ithilwen, he did, they were something between friends and siblings but that didn't mean Neville never felt anger at her.

"Please, you have to be more careful. You could have gotten hurt." Neville stated firmly.

It was true too.

He'd come across his blonde friend carrying what looked to be a rather heavy cauldron across her workspace when she'd slipped. Thankfully she'd caught herself but Neville damn near had a coronary.

"Honesty, Neville." The elleth giggled, "I'm fine."

The wizard nodded slowly as if in agreement, but his dark eyes roved over her body to check for injury.

He found none.

"I hope he's healthy."

Neville looked up to meet his friend's silvery gaze.

"What?" He asked stupidly.

"My baby, I hope he's healthy. Strong. That's what parents wish for right? I hope he is." Ithilwen cued as she ran her hand over her unaffected midsection.

"How do you know it's a boy. It could be a girl for all you know." Neville laughed.

And the look she gave him was startlingly sharp... Not that Neville thought Ithilwen was ignorant! He'd just become so accustomed to seeing her misty silver eyes over the years that sudden bouts of sharpness- the intensity of it, really- startled him.

"I know." was her insistent reply.

Neville raised his hands in surrender and settled back to watch his friend work on her potions.

* * *

_**One Year Later.** _

The day Ilthiwen went into labor it was raining, not a light pitter-patter that left the green grasses glistening with little drops of moonlight, oh no, with the way it was raining they'd be lucky to have any grass left once the water dried up.

Ithilwen didn't mind though, to some it might be seen as a terrible omen, to be born during a storm... Ithilwen knew better because she had been born during a storm like the one that raged beyond the walls of the palace.

Her boy would be strong, strong and fierce and good. She knew he it. Because rain was nature's bood, it gave and it gave and sometimes it took but rarely did it do so with the purest intention to harm and destroy. Rain was good, and so to would her son be.

The elleth took a deep breath to soothe the pain in her abdomen as yet another contraction ripped through her body.

Slender fingers dug into the sweat soaked sheets beneath her body.

The healers had offered something for the pain and she'd taken it because she wanted a clear mind when she first held her baby, not a pain riddled one that caused the edges of her vision to blur.

"You're doing great."

Ithilwen smiled at Neville, sweet Neville who'd insisted on being present should anything bad happen. The healers had only let him be present because Thranduil was at war- a thought that still made Ithilwen's breath catch- and he was as close to her next-of-kin as anyone was getting anytime soon. And at the rate her boy was coming at, Neville was likely to be her only next-of-kin for quite a while.

"Just breathe. That's what you do right? Breathe?" Neville babbled.

Ithilwen squeezed her friend's hand reassuringly, knowing that one day he'd be in this room with his wife and he'd need to know that everything was alright _before_ entering the room.

"Neville, it's alright." Ithilwen insisted between pants.

The dark haired man nodded shakily before placing his free hand on her shoulder. The touch was a gentle reassurance, and while Ithilwen was happy that he was there... Well, she just wanted her husband. She wanted Thranduil to brush her hair from her eyes and smile reassuringly because as happy as she was to finally be able to see her baby, and she was, Ithilwen was still _scared_.

She'd heard stories of young women dying during child birth due to complications and bleeding and not being strong enough to handle bringing something so difficult into the world.

And it wasn't dying that scared her. It was the fact that if she died then her baby would likely never know anything about her. Thranduil was a good man but he reacted with extremes, and Ithilwen doubted her death would leave for little else but silence and unhappiness. Ignorance on her child's part if she was lucky.

"Oh my god. Oh my god. I'm going to be sick." Neville muttered furiously in English.

Ithilwen laughed. Ithilwen cried out as pain nipped at her lower body.

So much for pain medication.

"I see his head." The woman between her legs stated.

Ithilwen took deep breaths, pushed when she was told, and gripped tightly to Neville's strong hand.

In the end a beautiful baby boy was placed in her arms.

A boy with tufts of silver-gold hair and oddly silver eyes. Ithilwen thought that perhaps he'd look more like his father and that was fine because her baby was perfect.

She didn't even know she was crying until the taste of salt entered her mouth.

"Have you picked a name?" Neville asked as he watched the two.

Everyone else had left, having already done their jobs of tending to both mother and child. Which left Neville and Ilthilwen and the baby boy alone.

"Legolas."

"Good name." Neville responded a moment later. "Strong name."

Ithilwen nodded her head happily before she pressed her lips to her boy's head in a chaste kiss.

He cried, by Eru, he cried. His strong little lungs filled the air with his perfect little wails. Ithilwen cried harder because never in her life had anything of hers been so perfect and now she'd been blessed with something far more precious then jewels or kingdoms or even magic itself.

"I'll leave you to it." Neville whispered as he pressed a soft kiss to his friend's temple.

"Where are you going?"

"To inform see if it's safe to inform Thradnuil of his son's birth... Take care of yourself while I'm gone will you?"

Her only reply was a watery smile, a dreamy smile, the smile Neville had seen only once in his life.

Seeing that smile, seeing that baby in her arms, made Neville's heart swell- and he knew how ridiculous that sounded, but it was true. With one final smile Neville stepped out of the room.

He took one last glance at his friend and God son- Ithilwen had insisted her son needed one- before he closed the door with a soft click.

* * *

Ok, so the next chapter is probably going to piss a lot of people off... I won't say I'm sorry because then I'd be lying. I will say, however, that I have a reason for doing what I'm doing. Thank you for reading, please review because reviews are basically one of the only things that keeps me updating.


	27. Chapter 27

Asteria Dolohov was many things, she was a witch- albeit a half-blood which never seemed to please her father. she was gifted with potions and charms, she was beautiful and she was long lived- much longer lived then she honestly should have been- but there was one thing Asteria wasn't.

She wasn't a murdered.

Her father was a murderer, a cruel man who took pleasure in torturing those around him- his own daughter included though he was hardly as cruel to her as he was to his underlings. Worse yet, he was a monster and he expected his daughter to be one as well because, "You're a Dolohov and a surprisingly powerful witch for one with blood so tainted. You'll behave as is fit for one of your station, or you will not enjoy the results of your disobedience."

The dark haired beauty used to cry, when she was tucked away in her chambers, when no one could hear or witness her weakness. Asteria cried for her mother- a woman she only had the faintest memories of- and she cried for the life she could have had if she'd been born to different parents.

But Asteria was who she was, there was no changing that, and so she took to wearing impassive faces and spewing honeyed lies from between her teeth.

She was no flower... She was the viper beneath it.

"Girl, your father wishes to see you."

Asteria looked up from the book in her lap, the orc standing at her door was a crippled little weakling, the only orc that her father would allow near her because he- Asteria assumed it was a he- never leered at her, he merely cowered and averted his milky eyes.

"Thank you, Holgro. You may leave."

The orc nodded before he clumsily stumbled off. Asteria waited a moment before she stood, smoothed out her dress, and began the long trek from her chambers to those of her father.

Gundabad was horrible, the mountain was cold, cold enough to cause Asteria's fingers to numb if she forgot to use a warming charm. Asteria hated the mountain, it was dark and lonely and horrible and Asteria wanted everything Gundabad couldn't give her.

Asteria wanted rolling green hills and summer breezes that didn't smell like snow and stone, she wanted warm rivers, she wanted forests and lakes and golden sunsets that weren't hidden by the heavy grey clouds that surrounded the mountain.

Asteria wanted... But Asteria couldn't have that, not now, not when her father was alive and such a monster.

When the girl reached her father's chambers she took a moment to smooth back her hair because she was a woman of house Dolohov and the women of house Dolohov were nothing if not presentable.

"Come in Asteria."

Of course her father would know she was standing in front of the door. Slowly, Asteria pushed open the heavy stone door.

Antonin Dolohov was sitting at his desk, whether he was reading for pleasure or reading over spells for something much darker Asteria didn't care. She sat in her usual chair- an uncomfortable stone thing that had been placed before her father's desk- and waited as she normally did.

Do not speak until spoken too. Keep your eyes down. Show nothing, feel nothing. Be like snow.

Beautiful and cold.

"I've been told that you've been leaving." Her father intoned.

"Yes." Asteria admitted because nothing good ever came from lying.

"Without permission. Why?"

Dark eyes flicker down and to the left, she chose her words carefully. How was she supposed to tell him that she'd rather spend fleeting moments in a muggle city where the boys would vie for her attention, where people would smile at her, where the air didn't smell like orc and death.

"I grow bored of this Mountain, father. I apologize for any concern I may have caused you."

Lies, all of it. Asteria didn't care about any concern she might have caused. As if there had been any in the first place. Her father cared for her in the way dragons cared for their gold. There was no love, only a deep possessiveness that stemmed from something Asteria didn't quite understand but saw every moment of her life.

"As you should be." Her father replied, and there was a tense moment where Asteria watched her father twirl his fingers between his slender fingers, then he spoke, "But it is of no consequence, I have a task for you Asteria."

"A task?"

What was this? Her father never had tasks for her... Not unless they were trivial or cruel.

"Yes, I require you to travel to the Green Woods. Observe the elven army, observe the elven king. I wish to know everything and seeing as they've not seen your face before you might be able to pass as an elf woman. You will not be seen as a threat." Her father stated briskly.

"I have no elven dresses, father, how am I to gather information without the proper elven garments?" She questioned.

And if her heart nearly leapt into her throat when her father stated that there were garments waiting in her chambers, Asteria didn't notice because she was leaving Gundabad, with permission... She might even be able to stay away from Gundabad longer then a measly hour.

She was excited. She was giddy. She was afraid.

"I'll leave at once, father." Asteria promised impassively.

"I'll summon you when I see fit for you to return."

Asteria fled the room as soon as her father dismissed her. She flew to her chambers because the quicker she got there, the quicker she changed, the quicker she could leave Gundabad. The quicker she could pretend to be free.

The dress was lovely, flowing blue silk with gold beading. Lovely and pure. It was something Asteria was unused to seeing in such a dark place. With nimble fingers the girl stripped out of her own black gown of cotton and into the rich silk her father had gifted her with.

* * *

"And what of the Elven King?" Her father questioned delightedly over supper, "Was he broken?"

Asteria frowned into her glass of wine. She'd spent exactly three weeks in The Great Green Woods, and in those three weeks she'd observed the elven army and the elven city and the two wizards who lived within the city. She'd even seen the king on more then one occasion, the beautiful king with his beautiful son.

"He was impassive." Asteria replied honestly.

"Impassive?" Her father growled.

"Or so he appeared. I've not met this elven king before, I know not of his mannerisms... There are whispers that the elven king speaks not of his wife. Is that normal amongst elves? To not speak of ones dead lover?" Asteria questioned in hopes of steering the conversation away from the elf with the sad blue eyes.

Sad blue eyes and a son who asked for a mother he couldn't remember.

"In some cases, poppet. In some cases."

Poppet, it was a pet name that her father blessed her with when he found her work pleasing. She hated it. Poppet, it was a name he'd given her when Asteria had killed her first man. The memory of it still made her ill.

"The wizards are angry. Though, the young one. I suspect his anger is aimed at the elven king. I don't know the reason for his anger, but it's there. It's in his eyes."

And her father's laughter was almost unfamiliar in it's warmth. Usually her father's laughter was cruel and born from another's pain.

"Wonderful, you've done well Poppet," Her father praised before thoughtfully adding, "Perhaps I'll allow you to do such tasks more often."

Asteria found herself wishing to please her father more often. Because if pleasing him meant she could leave, then yes, she'd do everything she could to please her father... Even if it meant going against her beliefs, even if it meant crippling what little light remained within her. Even if it meant becoming the very thing her father wanted her to become.

She'd do it.

"There is something that concerns me." Asteria stated suddenly, unable to help herself.

"And that is?"

"The wizard, Neville, he seems... Aggressive, not like you've described him to me."

And her father's smile made Asteria wish she'd kept her damn mouth closed.

"Yes poppet, sorrow often causes such aggression."

"But why would he feel saddened by the Elf-Queen's death?"

It was genuine curiosity the made the witch ask in the first place.

"He mourns the friend he's lost, I suppose." Her father commented as he stood.

Asteria nodded slowly, it made sense she supposed. To mourn for someone you've loved and lost. Would Asteria mourn her father if he ever passed? She supposed she must, he was her father after all. Her father and teacher and, sadly, the closest thing she had to a friend.

Suddenly her father's hands were on the back of her neck, long fingers curling around the slender expanse of flesh. His lips were to close to her ear, the air he breathed out caused the hair near Asteria's cheek to move away. His touch made her skin crawl and something deep down begged her to run, run, run.

"This is why we have no connections, Poppet. It is safer this way. Friendship and love, these things make you weak. Take lovers poppet, take companions, but guard yourself against such feelings for only those of inferior breeding allow themselves to be ruled by such. And despite your mother's filth tainting that blood of yours, you're still of my blood and that makes you better then most."

And then her father was gone and the door slammed shut behind him.

Would she mourn her father should he ever die?

No... No, Asteria would not mourn him.

She wondered if she ever could.


End file.
